


The Valiant, The Tall, And the Abhorred

by MathConcepts



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Politics, Bounty Hunters, Gangs, Gen, Gunslinger! AU, M/M, Other, Outlaws, Politics, Sheriff - Freeform, Shooting, Shootouts, indians - Freeform, wild west! AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-06 10:02:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 23,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathConcepts/pseuds/MathConcepts
Summary: Gunslinger Maedhros comes into a new town on the eve of the President's visit to make a new start with his six brothers, and hopefully meet with the President.But a gang sent by Maedhros's old nemesis interrupts the festivities and kills someone dear to Maedhros, abolishing Maedros's plans for new life, and putting Maedhros and his brothers on the fast track to becoming one of the most feared groups of bounty hunters in the west.





	1. The RedHeaded Stranger

* * *

 

  
The man that rode into the town wasn't a man, though the evidence that confirmed that he was not human was concealed beneath his hat. Loose red curls flowed out from under the hat, and glittering green eyes and a straight nose emerged from the shadow of the hat's brim.

This redhaired personage was astride a black horse, and he rode through the town, casually disinterested in the stares of the townfolk. He stopped and dismounted outside the town's best saloon, hitching his horse to a post, and entering the saloon.

 

The patrons turned to look as he entered, all eyes curiously regarding the slender silhouette outlined between the swinging doors of the saloon. The redheaded stranger went up to the bar, leaning against it.   
  
"What will it be, stranger?" came the query from the bartender.

"Whiskey." the stranger said, in a smooth, low voice, and almost immediately, a small crystal glass of amber liquid was slid across the bartop to him.

 

Picking it up with an exquisite curl of his gloved fingers, the stranger downed the contents of the glass and set it back on the bartop.  
  
  
"Another, stranger?"

"Yes...the name is Maedhros."  Maedhros said.

"Well, Maedhros, what brings you to these parts?" the bartender said, refilling the shot glass.

"I'm looking for work, for me and my brothers." Maedhros supplied, lifting the glass. The bartender's brow rose at the mention of _brothers_.

"How many of you are there?" the bartender asked.

"Six." said Maedhros said, tossing the shot to the back of his throat. "We have skills to offer." Maedhros continued immediately after, setting the glass down and folding his arms on top of the bar. "One of my brothers is a blacksmith, one is a musician, one is a hunter, he lived with the Indians and learned their skills."

"And the other three?" said the bartender, tipping more liquid into the empty shot glass.

"An accountant, and the other two make good farmhands." said Maedhros, his mouth twisting into a goodnatured grin.

"Well," said the bartender, setting the whiskey bottle down, "There might be some work for you and yours here, this town is expanding, we need good people." 

  
Maedhros reached up, taking his hat off, revealing a fine face with high cheekbones, scarred across the nose and left side, and ears, that wended their way into pointed tips.

"That's good to hear." Maedhros said, retrieving the shot glass.  
  
"And what's your skill?" the bartender inquired as Maedhros drained the glass. In response Maedhros pulled aside a fold of his long coat with his free hand, revealing a gleaming pistol sitting in the curve of his hip.   
  
The bartender nodded, pursing his lips. Maedhros was a gunslinger, bounty hunter, gun-for-hire. Whatever lingo you chose to use, it all meant the same.  
  
Maedhros let his coat fall over his gun, and took some coins from a pouch at his waist, setting them on the bartop. The bartender took them, looking shrewdly at Maedhros.

"Do you have a place to stay?"

"I'll find one." Maedhros said.  
  
"Best find one quickly," advised the bartender, "There's rumors that the president will be visiting, and lodgings will fill up quickly if that's the case."  
  
  
Maedhros looked amused.  
  
"The president _is_ coming, I'll hurry and find a room." he drawled.  
  
"How do you figure?" said the bartender.

"He's my cousin." Maedhros said. "He told be he was coming."

"You're President Fingon's cousin?" the bartender asked in disbelief.

 

"I sure am." Maedhros confirmed, then held one gloved finger against his lips. "But don't tell."

"So, did you come here for work, or to see the President?" the bartender asked suspiciously. Maedhros laughed, restoring his hat onto his head.   
  
  
"Both." Maedhros answered simply, tipping his hat. "Much obliged." and so saying, Maedhros left the saloon, stepping back out into the sunlight, the freckles spread over his face gleaming dully in the light that managed to find its way under the brim of his hat. 

 


	2. The Horse And His Gunslinger

 

* * *

Maedhros surveyed the main street of the town from a vantage point on the porch of the town mercantile, idly tapping a booted foot on the wooden planks beneath his feet, a cooling breeze stirring his hair, a small packet of brown paper in his hand. His horse, a beast affectionately named _Finno,_ he had already deposited in a livery stable, and had then went to the mercantile to procure sugar cubes for him.  
  
Leaving the shade of the mercantile's porch, Maedhros strolled back to the livery stable, unwrapping the packet in his hand and popping a sweet cube in his mouth. Finno loved sugar, much like his namesake. In the back of his mind, Maedhros could hear Celegorm's frankly crude remarks about him _riding_ a horse named after Fingon, and laughed to himself. 

 

Licking his lips and swiping away the sweet aftertaste of the sugar,  Maedhros entered the stable and dutifully fed his horse the treats. When he emerged, the sky was darkening, and he wasted no time in letting his feet take him to grand hotel that stood proudly in the middle of the main street.  
  
He passed the brothel that stood adjacent to the livery stables, and its occupants cooed at him in appreciation.  
  
  
"Ladies." Maedhros greeted demurely, tipping his hat, and offering a smile, and was rewarded by high giggles.

 

He entered the hotel a short walk later, his eyes taking in the polished wood paneling and gilt furniture in approval. As he signed the hotel register in a curvaceous scrawl, Maedhros could see that the bartender's prediction was quite on the mark, the register was nearly half full. The innkeeper took the register when Maedhros had finished, and Maedhros could feel the innkeeper's eyes watch him sharply, registering all the things Maedhros had _not_ written down.  
  
  
  
In the morning, Maedhros knew he would receive a visitor. That however, was a matter best left for the morning, and Maedhros took himself to the dining room to partake of a dinner that was served off of china dishes.  
  
  
Despite all of Celegorm's endorsements about the wonders of feasting off the land with only nature as a dining room, Maedhros was not a hunter to the extremes that his brother was, and preferred to eat in a more civilized setting.   

The food was excellent, and Maedhros fell into bed later in the evening contented. He had turned down an offer to play cards after dinner, which was a risk to his first social impressions, but it was best not to involve himself in anything til he knew where he stood, and tomorrow would decide just that.     
  
  
He fell asleep quickly, and dreamt of gold ribbons and a voice like silk.  


Early in the morning, he had risen and dressed, and left the hotel, intent on seeing his horse before breakfast. Outside, waiting on the front steps with the air of a man who has business to attend to, stood the sheriff, recognizable by the badge pinned on his lapel.   
  
The sheriff greeted Maedhros with a nod and outstretched hand, which Maedhros shook.  
  
  
"I'm Hayes Cooper, sheriff of this here town." the sheriff introduced himself.  
  
  
"Maedhros Feanorian." Maedhros offered in return. A flicker of surprise passed over the sheriff's face.

" _Feanorian._ Are you of any relation to the famous outlaw Feanor?" the sheriff asked, eyes fastened on Maedhros.  
  
  
"His son." Maedhros answered simply. The sheriff whistled through his teeth.

"So I take it you're _that_ Maedhros." the sheriff said easily, his eyes betraying no hostility. "Well, what brings you to these parts?"  


"My brothers. I figure it's time for them to settle down and start a life." Maedhros said. "From what I hear, this is an up-and-coming town, full of opportunity."  


"You have the right of it," the sheriff agreed. "And if the President comes, it'll attract more people, and we'll surely grow then."  


A small, secret smile curved Maedhros's lips.

"I'm sure."

"Well, I always did appreciate a family man." the sheriff admitted amicably, starting down the hotel's steps. Maedhros followed, stepping into the path of a cool morning breeze. "Ah, but I should warn you, there are some pretty rough characters around these parts, they can cause quite the spot of trouble for folks." 

 

Maedhros understood the double meaning of the sheriff's friendly warning, and his hand rested on his hip, a gesture of assurance to those who knew what to look for.

"They won't be a problem for much longer." Maedhros said said. Maedhros knew the score, it was new town, a new time to prove yourself to the ones in authority by cleaning up for them. And Maedhros had a reputation for _cleaning up._  


The sheriff smiled at last.  


"I'm much obliged." he said, taking the last of the stairs down, and going on his way, ending the interview. Maedhros set off in the opposite direction towards the livery stable, the cool breeze playing in his hair.


	3. Road To El Dorado

* * *

  
Maedhros spent a languid half hour with his horse, combing out its mane and attending to to its saddle and reins. An elven rider did not usually require a saddle and reins, but Maedhros had found it useful to travel using them. Checking his watch exactly a half hour after he had entered the livery stable, Maedhros left, and went back to the hotel.  
  
  
The innkeeper stopped him as he entered the dining room.

"Someone came looking for you while you were out." the innkeeper informed him.  
  
  
"Who?" Maedhros inquired, running a mental tally of the people, good and bad who might be seeking him.

"He didn't leave a name, but he was a tall chap, not as tall as you though, dark-haired, grey eyes." recited the innkeeper. Maedhros's own eyes widened incrementally, then he smiled.

"He left a message." the innkeeper continued, prompted by Maedhros's smile. "He said you should meet him at the saloon." A bill, folded neatly, found its way into the innkeeper's hand at the end off his sentence.  
  
"Thank you." Maedhros murmured, and left the hotel, promptly making his way to the saloon. Sanding at the bar, sipping from a glass, was a dark haired figure in a grey suit.

"Maglor." Maedhros said, crossing the floor of the saloon to the bar. Maglor smiled over the rim of his glass.

 

"When did you get into town?" Maedhros asked, leaning against the bar beside his brother, waving for a drink. The bartender slid him a whiskey filled shot glass, which Maedhros caught in the hollow of his palm.

"I came in early in the stagecoach." Maglor said as Maedhros polished off the whiskey. "Celegorm talked everyone else into coming on horseback." 

"Of course he did." Maedhros muttered through a mouthful of whiskey.  "There's a theater in town." Maedhros said the next moment, putting down the glass. "You can look for work there."

 

"I already did." Maglor said, setting aside his own glass. "I went by there this morning, they contracted me to play all the music for their upcoming shows."

Maedhros whistled in approval.

"You move fast." Maedhros remarked.  
  
  
"It wasn't so much me, they needed a professional to play the music for the president's visit, and there's no qualified musicians in this town, so they snatched me up quick." Maglor deferred. 

"The sheriff has contracted me to rid the town of vagabonds, I suppose I should do that before the president comes." Maedhros mused.   
  
  
"Indeed, it would reflect badly if the president were to come and there are vagrants running amok in the streets." Maglor said.  
  
  
Maedhros's mouth quirked in amusement.

"I doubt he would mind, Fingon always appreciates a bit of charming disorder now and then."  
  
  
"Naturally, Celegorm is his cousin." Maglor observed dryly. The scarred portions of Maedhros's face bunched together as he laughed.  
  
  
"Fingon is doing well in office." Maglor said in an offhand tone, but Maedhros latched onto the words with great interest.  
  
  
"He is, he's passed so many beneficial laws, and the people love him."  Maedhros agreed. Maglor nodded, his brows furrowing.

"Still, no matter how much the people love him, he shouldn't expose himself to the public by hosting such a big rally here." Maglor said. Maedhros waved a dismissive hand. 

"It'll boost his public standing, and besides, what can go wrong?" Maedhros said cheerily, placing money on the bartop and leaving the way he came, with Maglor following.

 

"So," said Maedhros as he and Maglor strolled the veranda of the storefronts, "You've been in contact with the rest of or family more than I have these past years, how is everything?"  

"Well, Turgon and Aredhel are still gone, and Finrod is still off mining with the dwarves." Maglor relayed.  "Ever since Turgon had that dream and disappeared with Aredhel to find El Dorado, everyone's been worried to no end."   
  
"I'll bet." Maedhros said through pursed lips. "Celegorm is still taking it hard that Aredhel decided to go with Turgon." 

"Celegorm is _pining_ , you mean." Maglor said flatly. Maedhros shrugged, tucking back a flap of his coat.

"I think it's time I fulfilled some of my obligations to the sheriff." Maedhros said. "Would you like to come?"  
  
  
"I need to tune my harp for tonight." Maglor said, but he remained walking at Maedhros's side.


	4. First Gun Out Is The Winner

Maedhros only had to walk a short ways more before finding what he was looking for, a rough-looking man jostling a harried storekeeper in front of one of the stores. Maedhros stepped smoothly between the two men.

"What's the problem, gentlemen?" Maedhros inquired casually.  
  
"This is our business." the rough looking man informed him.  
  
"It's my business now." Maedhros said mildly. "What's wrong?" Maedhros continued, looking to the shopkeeper.

  
"Nothing, Mister." the shopkeeper said, clearly fearful.

"I asked what's wrong." Maedhros repeated in a firmer tone.

"Ah, he stole something." the shopkeeper said, relenting.

Maedhros's eyes turned to the rough-looking man.

  
  
"Return what you stole, or you'll find yourself in jail." Maedhros said.

"Back off, you're not the sheriff." the man drawled, smirking through his thick stubble. Maedhros quirked a fine red brow.

"No, I'm not the sheriff, but you'll still go to jail." Maedhros said. The man scoffed.  
  
"And if I refuse?" the man said jauntily, jutting his chin outward.  Maedhros rested his finger on his waist, sweeping back his long leather duster to reveal his holster. The man he was facing remained undaunted by this gesture.

"That gun don't mean nothin', pretty boy, now move aside and let me through." the man demanded.

 

Maedhros smiled vaguely at the threat, not moving.

The man yanked a gun from his own holster, seemingly intent on gunning Maedhros out of his way, but Maedhros's gun had left its holster well before the man's arm even raised to his chest level. The air splitting sound of a shot rang out, and the man's gun fell from his hand, a bullet embedded in his arm.

 

The sheriff emerged from an opposite storefront the next moment, and crossed the street to where Maedhros stood.

"I'll take it from here." the sheriff said, looking at the man who was now slouched in pain, clutching his wounded arm.

"All yours." Maedhros replied, tucking his gun away and striding off coolly. Maglor, who had been watching Maedhros's exploits from close in the background, followed.

  
"You're officially the sheriff's bouncer now." Maglor commented, matching his brother's loping strides. Maedhros pulled a face, his scars wrinkling.  


"You make it sound like I'm his kept woman." Maedhros accused, but there was humor behind the words.

"No, that honor would go to Fingon." Maglor retorted.  
  
  
"True." Maedhros agreed, and chuckled heartily. "Where are you staying?" Maedhros asked when his chuckles had subsided.  
  
"I'll rent a cottage today, and Caranthir will rent another when he comes. We can all stay in them until we get settled." Maglor said.  
  
  
Maedhros gave a nod of assent.  
  
  
"Fingon wants you to go with him to Washington, when the rally here is over." Maglor continued, his tone purposely light. Maedhros shot his brother a look through the strands of his hair the wind was dancing with, a soft sigh leaving him the next moment. 

"He knows I _can't_."

"That won't stop him from asking." Maglor parried.  
  
  
"I know, I know...let me get you all settled, and then we'll see...maybe when his term is up, I'll go."   
  
  
"He'll be re-elected without a doubt. That's two terms you'll have to wait." Maglor pointed out.  
  
  
"Then I'll use that time to clean up this town and look after you all." said Maedhros after the briefest of pauses.

"Ever the martyr." Maglor quipped. "This town will grow, progress will continue, it'll be a bright new time." Maglor went on in a persuasive tone. "You should enjoy some of it." 

"I'll enjoy myself plenty at the rally. Or, after it." Maedhros said, indulging in fleeting, lecherous thought concerning one of the primary subjects of the rally.

  
Maglor smiled knowingly, and the two strolled down the dusty main road.    

 

 

 


	5. In The Theater

Maedhros sat in a booth in the balcony of the theater, looking down at the show that was playing out below. The day had passed uneventfully,  Maglor had rented his cottage, and then went off to make preparations at the theater, leaving Maedhros to eat lunch and visit his horse.  
  
  
Now, it was night, and Maedhros had decided to attend his brother's debut performance at the theater, after all, it had been some time since he had last heard Maglor play.  
  


Maglor was in fine form this night, Maedhros could hear the murmurs of appreciation from the audience below. Maedhros reached up to tug on the lapels of the suit he was wearing, it had been a while since he had worn a suit, and so the feeling of the silken jacket and starched pants were unfamiliar, unlike the leather and fine wool Maedhros favored.

 

But, Maglor had cajoled him into it, and after all, how could he refuse his little brother? Below, the audience erupted into cheers as Maglor's performance came to an end. Maedhros clapped, and as if alerted by the sound, Maglor looked up at him, smiling pertly at Maedhros's expression of approval. Then Maglor took his bows and left the stage, making room for the theater troupe.  
  
  
Maedhros felt more than saw the persons that stepped into his booth the next moment.

"Maedhros." said the sheriff's voice, and Maedhros turned in his chair. "This is the mayor." the sheriff said, indicating the man the man that stood beside him. "Mayor White, this is..." 

"Maedhros Feanorian." Maedhros interjected, extending his hand to the mayor. The mayor took his  hand, shaking it firmly.   
  
"Pleasure." Maedhros said. The sheriff took a seat on a chair beside Maedhros, while the mayor remained standing. 

 

"Pardon the interruption," the mayor began, "But we have a favor to ask of you." 

"Oh?" Maedhros said, feigning surprise, although he had known that a request for a favor would come sooner rather than later. The mayor's voice dropped, its pitch intended for an audience of of two.   
  
"We've gotten the news from official sources this morning, the President is coming to attend the rally." the mayor paused to let the meaning of the words sink in. It was not news to Maedhros, but he still showed interest. 

"Sheriff Cooper here was telling me how you handled that situation this morning, and we want you to be around when the president comes in, in case trouble comes around. Now, I know a man like you might not care much for the President, but you can consider this just a job." the mayor said briskly.

 

Maedhros smiled an easy smile.

 

"As the President's cousin, I have every interest in keeping away any trouble, gentlemen." Maedhros said offhandedly. The mayor and sheriff's faces registered shock. "I may be what what I am, but I still have family loyalties."

  
The mayor regained some of his composure. 

"I was told you want to bring your brothers here to settle." the mayor said, casting a glance at the sheriff. Maedhros smiled in amusement.   
  


"You were told right." he said. The corner of the mayor's mouth quirked up in response.   
  
"Well, Maedhros, I look forward to seeing you at the rally." the mayor said formally. Maedhros inclined his head, and the sheriff rose from his seat, leaving with the mayor.  

A little while later, at the conclusion of the theater troupe's performance, Maedhros left the theater and was met outside by Maglor. 

"What did the mayor want with you?" Maglor asked. Maedhros smiled again, of course Maedhros would have been watching his exchange with the town's authorities.

  
"I've landed a job as the President's informal bodyguard." Maedhros said. Any reply Maglor wold have made was cut off by a cocking sound, Maedhros spun around at the noise, coming face to face with a shotgun.  
  


"You're the one who got my pal coolin' his heels in jail." the man brandishing the shotgun accused. Maedhros hardly blinked.   
  


"And you're the hard case who's running with him." Maedhros offered back. The man's finger curled perilously close to the trigger of the shotgun, an action that was halted by Maedhros's voice. "You don't want to do that."   
  
"Shut up hoss, ain't nobody around here gets to mess with us, especially not some high-falutin' stranger." the man declared. 

"Why, I do believe you're looking to catch a tartar." Maedhros mused, lips curving in private humor. The shotgun was brandished with growing ferocity, and smoothly, Maedhros slid his hand under his lapels.   
  
The shotgun was discharged the next moment, but the bullet coming from Maedhros's direction buried itself into the man's arm as the the shotgun's trigger was depressed, and the man threw his hands up, flinging the shotgun into the air and howling with pain before falling over, the shotgun's projectile landing harmlessly in the middle of the road. 

Maglor watched dispassionately from the theater steps.   
  
"There always has to be some jackass." he said to Maedhros. 

"Every town has them." Maedhros said, stepping around the groaning man as he caught sight of the sheriff coming out of the theater, summoned by the shots. "But this one here was just stupid."  
  
Maglor shrugged.   
  
"Let's get some sleep, the boys are due in town tomorrow." 

"If we hop in the back of the mail carriage, we could escape before they get here." Maedhros said with dry humor, casting a look back as the sheriff made off with his latest quarry. 

Maglor's laugh tinkled down the road as they walked to their respective lodgings.   
  
  
 

 


	6. Break The Bandit News

Maedhros awoke under the clean linen sheets of his hotel room, the unmistakable smell of hot coffee and frying eggs wafting up into his nostrils from the kitchens below. Getting up, Maedhros spent a few minutes at the open window, drinking in the air that swept in from the vast plains outside the town.

 

Maedhros had bathed the night before, and so he quickly dressed after spending a few more moments at the window, first pulling on his pants and leather chaps, and boots, then a cotton shirt and stiff vest, and over all, his long leather coat. His gun belt and holster were securely fastened and hung on his hips, and his gloved encased his hands. 

  
A gold ribbon was looped and knotted around Maedhros's right wrist, and Maedhros pulled the knot tighter with an almost frantic gesture. The gold ribbon was memento Maedhros had taken from Fingon on their last night together, and ever since, Maedhros had worn it on his wrist, guarding it as if it was a bracelet of the purest gold.

Descending from his room, Maedhros left the hotel to complete his customary morning visit to horse. When he returned to the hotel and entered the dining room, he found Maglor lounging at one of the tables, drinking from a steaming cup of coffee.   
  
  
The table was set with breakfast for two, and Maedhros  took a seat across from his brother. 

 

"What brings you here?" Maedhros asked humorously, picking up his fork and knife and slicing into the sizzling meat on his plate.  
  
  
  
"I want to enjoy the last bit of peace and quiet before the boys ride in." Maglor explained, sipping his coffee, which was brewed as black as his hair and did not contain sugar.  
  
Maedhros's response was muffled by his mouthful of food, but Maglor understood most of it.

" I still don't think being altogether in the same town is wise idea." Maglor observed, picking up his generously buttered toast with slim, calloused fingers. Maedhros bravely fought his way through his mouthful of food to answer.

 

"It's high time we were all together, so we can watch out for each other. I leave for a few years, and you've already managed to lose Turgon and Aredhel." Maedhros pointed out.

"Turgon is as stubborn as the day is long." Maglor said, not miffed in the slightest. "He would've disappeared sooner or later." Maedhros drowned another response in a gulp of coffee, and Maglor laughed softly. 

 

"I can get the Ambarussa work." Maedhros said a few minutes later. "There's plenty of farmers who have just settled hereabouts, and they'll be needing hands." 

"That'll be fine for the Ambarussa, and and probably Celegorm, but Caranthir and Curufin will want something in town." Maglor said.

 

"I asked around yesterday while you were at the theater, the blacksmith was shot two weeks ago over some horseshoes, so Curufin can take over there."

 

"And Caranthir?" Maglor asked. 

"The bank's accountant was killed around the same time as the blacksmith, and the bank is looking for another one." 

 

Maglor whistled through his teeth.  
  
"This town is awfully fond of shooting people." Maglor said.

"Well, it wasn't a coincidence that the blacksmith and banker were both shot around the same time." Maedhros observed darkly. 

"It was planned?" Maglor elaborated.  
  
Maedhros answered with a terse nod.

"Somebody was trying to weaken the town by taking out some of the key industries."

"But why?" Maglor said.

"This town isn't any different from any of the others, I can't make hide or hair of why someone would want to bring it down." Maedhros replied.

 

"Could it have something to do with the upcoming rally?" Maglor theorized. 

"It's possible." Maedhros admitted, a furrow of worry creasing his brow.

 

The sheriff came into the dining room, making his way over to Maedhros's table. 

 

"Gentlemen, sorry to interrupt," he said,  greeting Maglor with a nod, then looking to Maedhros.

 

"A group just rode in to town, they seem decent enough, but there's a lot of them, and they're all down at the saloon. Could you pass on by, in case they get too rowdy? the sheriff suggested. 

Maglor and Maedhros shared a look over the table, and Maedhros stood the next moment, placing his utensils down.  
  
"I'll have a look right now, sheriff." he said, striking out for the door at a brisk pace.  
  
  
"Sheriff." Maglor said smoothly, getting up and flitting past the sheriff, trailing after his brother.  
  
The distance to the saloon was covered in a quick jaunt, and Maedhros went through the swinging doors, eyes fastening on the group of people that were sitting crowded around one of the tables in the saloon.

  
Sunlight danced through the saloon's windows, and through the glasses of amber liquids sitting on the groups' table, and caressed two heads of red hair. Maedhros's scarred face was broken by a wide grin.

 

"Amrod, Amras!" he called, and every eye in the saloon turned to watch him descend on the table, and be enveloped in a flurry of hugs, given by the Ambarussa, squeezes on the shoulders, given by Caranthir and Curufin, and backslaps, chiefly delivered by Celegorm. 

  
"You're here!" exclaimed Maedhros, delighted.

"So we are. Where's Kano?" Celegorm said, holding up two shots he had plucked away from Curufin in rapid succession.  

 

"Here." Maglor said, slipping over to the table in a blur of dark cloth, and seizing one of the shot glasses Celegorm had managed to snitch, while Maedhros smoothly took the other. 

  
"You absolute good-for-nothings." Celegorm objected.  
  
"We have jobs, somebody found us good for something." Maedhros refuted, tipping the contents of the glass down his throat.   
  
  
"You got jobs that fast? Mabs." Celegorm muttered, and Amrod and Amras tittered in amusment.

"Magl...Kano is working at the theater, I'm going to be regulating vagrants around town, and making sure things don't get out of hand when everyone is painting the town red during the rally." Maedhros said, pulling a chair up to the over stuffed table and sitting on it.  
  
  
"Actually, the sheriff requested that he provide protection for the President during the rally." Maglor amended. 

 

Maedhros shot him a look, but it was too late.

 

"Oh, I'm sure you'll provide protection, and a _lot more_ to the President." Celegorm grinned, his double meaning quite clear. Maedhros mumbled something quite unsavory under his breath, sending Amrod and Amras into another fit of laughter.   
  
  
Caranthir's voice suddenly cut above the twins' laughter, gaining the attention of the table.  
  
"If the sheriff requested protection at the rally, he must believe there will be trouble." Caranthir flatly stated.  
  
  
  
"Drunks and political protesters don't count as trouble." Maedhros began, but Caranthir shook his head.

"There's been rumors coming from the East that the Black Bandits have been spotted." Caranthir said.

A soberness flickered through Maedhros's eyes.  
  
"Those are just rumors." he said, but his tone was heavy, and indicated no inner belief in his own words.  
  
"Maybe." Caranthir said simply. 

  
   
 

 


	7. Do The Locomotion, Baby

The day had passed in in the recollection of humorous anecdotes told over various glasses of liquor, until the end of their revelry was marked by Celegorm imbibing his tenth glass of whiskey and slumping over the table. Maedhros chuckled over his own glass.

"Amrod, Amras, why don't you take your brother up to the hotel?" there was no response from either twin, and Maedhros looked over to see that the Ambarussa's place at the table was strikingly empty.

"They sneaked off to the brothel." Curufin said, noting Maedhros's questioning gaze. Maedhros threw back his whiskey and got to his feet.

"I'll go get them." he mumbled. Curufin and Maglor propped up Celegorm between them.  
  
"I'll take him down to my house." Maglor offered. Maedhros nodded, heading for the door.

"Just leave me to pay up then." Caranthir grumbled.

"You have enough money." Maedhros shot back pithily as he passed through the swinging doors, and Caranthir threw a phrase in elvish at his brother's retreating back.

"Don't mind him." Curufin said, who was following Maedhros with Celegorm and Maglor. "He's still upset because some calico turned him down."

"Eh?" Maedhros articulated, looking over his shoulder at Curufin.

"He helped some farmgirl fight the Black Bandits off her land, and he fell in love with her, he even offered her some of his own land. But she upped and left to settle somewhere else, and that's when decided to sell his ranch and come with the rest of us." Curufin explained.

"Damn."Maedhros said.

 

"Haleth was her name." Curufin added matter-of-factly.

Maedhros whistled.

"I'll take him down to the bank tomorrow, to terrorize the finances. That always puts him in a good mood." Maedhros suggested. Curufin made a dubious nose, but offered no comment.  
  
Maedhros continued down the street to the brothel, while Curufin and Maglor veered off in the direction of Maglor's cottage. When he reached the brothel, Maedhros was admitted with an overabundance of welcome, and entered the boudoir with a lady on each arm. 

"Ah, gentlemen, time to go." Maedhros said when he spotted his twin brothers ensconced in cozy alcove with two equally buxom ladies, though all were still fully dressed.   
  
"The gentlemen said they needed some company for the night." one of the ladies objected, fluttering a mothlike fan. Maedhros offered a charming smile, and leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret.  
  
"The gentlemen need someone to tuck them in for the night." he corrected, and all the women tittered in amusement, sending gently chiding looks at the Ambarussa. A warning look at Amrod and Amras from Maedhros sent the two hastening to extract themselves from their corner.

"Your dress is lovely, Miss." Maedhros said to one of the women. A crinkle of paper followed his words, and a substantial bill was pressed into the woman's hands. "Here, you should get a hankerchief to match it, you all should."  Having duly compensated the ladies of choice for the time spent with his brothers, Maedhros left with them, back into the cool night air.

  
The sun rose bright and golden the next morning, flinging its first rays through the windows of the hotel, alighting on the three piles of red hair that were sprawled upon a bed in one of the rooms. Maedhros rose first, dressing and then taking a seat by the window, delaying his customary visit to his horse to wait for his brothers to wake up.  

The shrill whistle of the steam train broke the morning air, and Maedhros looked up, snapping to attention instantly, it was not the noise of the train that caused such a reaction, the trains' coming and goings and whistles had been background sounds during his days spent in the town.

It was the cry that had been taken up almost immediately after the train's whistle had sounded that had interested Maedhros. 

" _The president is here!_ " a voice called from outside, drifting through the hotel window. The words were repeated by another enthusiastic voice, and another, and under a minute, the street below was buzzing plethora of excited talking.  
  
Maedhros leapt from his chair, dashing out the door and out to the street below, making a beeline for the railway station, where the locomotive carrying the President had just pulled into.  
  
  
  
A crowd was already thronging about the station, but Maedhros was taller than most, and he didn't push to get to the front of the crowd, but simply stood, staring over the assembled heads, looking eagerly at the locomotive, his fingers curling into the gold ribbon around his wrist. The passengers were beginning to unboard, men and elves and suits.

A stagecoach rattled up to the station, obviously intended for the ones disembarking, and they clambered into it.

And finally, like the sunrise Maedhros had witnessed from his window just minutes ago, the President stepped out of the train, the gold in his thick braids gleaming in the new sun.


	8. In Through The Back

Fingon smiled at the crowd, and a dash of brilliant warmth shot through Maedhros's heart. The smile was not intended for him, Fingon had no way of knowing that Maedhros was in the crowd, but still, to see that smile smoothed an ache within Maedhros.  
  
  
Fingon made his way to the stagecoach, waving at the enthusiastic crowd as he went, and Maedhros's eyes tracked every of his movements. The impulse to call out to Fingon and see his face light up in recognition was strong, but Maedhros resisted it. He wouldn't rush. 

 

Fingon reached the stagecoach and got into it, and the coach rattled away to the cheers of the crowd. Maglor slipped away as the stagecoach disappeared down the main street, and took a brisk run to Maglor's cottage.    
  
Celegorm answered the door, dressed in nothing but a loose shirt and dress trousers, and eating from a plate of very greasy fried pork, a hangover cure that he had dubiously learned as a child.

Maedhros pushed past him, into the main room of the house where his other brothers, minus the Ambarussa, were seated around a table, working their way through their breakfast.   
  
"Fingon is here." Maedhros joyfully declared.

"That's what all the fuss was about." Caranthir muttered, sipping his coffee, which Maedhros knew he preferred black, like Maglor did. 

  
"We thought it was a lynching." Celegorm added, returning to the table with his demolished plate of meat.  
  
Maedhros snorted.

"A lynching? This early in the morning?" he said caustically, taking a fork from Curufin and jabbing up a piece of meat from Celegorm's plate with it. 

"Are you going to go see Fingon?" Celegorm inquired, pointedly eating the last slices of pork.   
  
"Of course." Maedhros said in a scandalized tone, as if offended by the implication that he was not intending on visiting. "I just came to tell someone to go up to the hotel and get the Ambarussa, and keep them away from the nanny house."  
  
"I'll go." Caranthir said, setting down his coffee cup. Maedhros nodded, already heading back to the door.  
  
"I suppose we won't be seeing you or Fingon for a couple of days." Celegorm remarked, stowing his empty plate in the sink.

"Not if I have my way." Maedhros said, stepping back outside.  
  
"Do you even know where he's staying?" Celegorm shouted after him.  
  
"The mayor's house! Moryo, take the Ambarussa to the livery stable and have them feed Finno!" Maedhros shouted back as an afterthought, and darted off down the road in a flap of leather and twinkle of spurs.

The stagecoach was parked outside the mayor's house, and was empty, its occupants having already entered the house. Briefly, Maedhros entertained the notion of walking up and knocking, and requesting admittance to see the President, but he knew it would cause complications. 

True, the mayor had requested that he provide protection for Fingon and knew he was Fingon's cousin, but he was still an unknown quantity to the men Fingon was accompanied by, and no self-respecting politicians and Secret Service men such as those would allow an infamous gunslinger near the President. To ask to see Fingon would result in a gunfight, and nothing less.

Maedhros considered his options, then moved to the back of the house, putting himself out of sight of the front windows, and placing himself in a vantage point between a copse of bushes that gave him clear view of the back windows.

 

Subterfuge was not ranked particularly high on Maedhros's internal scale of pastimes, but it was useful. Maedhros settled himself into a comfortable cranny between two bushes, and waited, his eyes fixed on the back windows.  

He knew Fingon's criteria for traveling by heart, after a moderately long journey, Fingon would always take a drink, wash up, and then change his clothes. The drink and wash took approximately about five minutes, then Fingon would seek privacy to change, which was what Maedhros was waiting for.

Reaching beneath the folds of his coat, Maedhros withdrew his gold watch, considering the time on its stubby face. When he looked back up, his eyes fell on a figure outlined in one of the previously empty windows.

 

Jumping to his feet, Maedhros crossed the short distance to the window, and tapped gently on the glass. A moment passed, then the window was opened, and Fingon's face was looking out at him.

  
"Finno." Maedhros greeted softly, almost reverently, a smile curving his lips.

A burst of surprise, then pure joy illuminated Fingon's face, and Maedhros pulled off his hat and leapt through the window, dropping his hat to the floor and gathering Fingon into his arms the moment his feet hit the polished wood floor. 

He spun around, pressing Fingon back against the wall in one movement, Fingon's arms wrapping around his neck. 

"Maitimo." Fingon breathed out, delight dancing in his eyes. Maedhros kissed him then, a soft, welcoming press of his lips against Fingon's, until Fingon curled his slender fingers in Maedhros's windswept hair and moved his lips against Maedhros's with an eagerness that made stars form under the closed lids of Maedhros's eyes. 

They broke apart seconds later, drawing in air in low pants, and Fingon laughed breathlessly, the sky blue of his eyes meeting the vivid green of Maedhros's as they opened. Maedhros reached up, taking Fingon's chin between his thumb and index finger, letting his thumb rest on Fingon's bottom lip, feeling the vibrations of his laughter.  

Likewise, Fingon slid his hands from Maedhros's hair, and cupped his face, brushing the collection of Maedhros's scars with a fond touch.   
  
"Maitimo." Fingon said again.  
  
" _Mr. President_." Maedhros answered, and Fingon's laughter replenished.    
  
"It sounds so strange, coming from _you_." Fingon admitted between peals of amusement. Maedhros grinned rakishly, then gripped by infectious joy, began to laugh too.

Fingon managed a knowing smile, and Maedhros crashed his lips back against Fingon's, mingling their laughter and joy.     


A breeze and sunshine flowed through the open window, bringing in golden light and the pure scents of the morning, but Maedhros already possessed both at that moment, in the rose-tainted smell that was uniquely Fingon's, and the gleam of the gold in his braids.

 


	9. Is Everything Alright?

Maedhros pushed himself away from the wall with the heel of his hands, sending himself toppling backwards onto the bed that stood waiting nearby. Fingon clung to him, and shared his descent, landing atop of Maedhros and letting himself be cradled between Maedhros's legs and arms.    
  
Unperturbed by their brief interruption, their lips met again, moving together less innocently. Maedhros slung an arm about Fingon's waist, his other hand taking hold of gold-lined braids.  
  
In response, Fingon's lips left his, and pressed to the hollow of his throat that his unbuttoned collar had left on display. Maedhrs's head lolled back, as he was overcome by the sudden, simple pleasure. The feel of Fingon's body against his, and the feel of his lips on his skin was familiar, yet, after all the years spent apart, it was a divine pleasure.

With a twist of his body, Maedhros rolled over, bringing himself atop of Fingon, and fluidly latching his lips onto the expanse of skin that that stretched between Fingon's collar  and jaw. He applied himself to the task with much diligence, and was rewarded with a loud, sweet moan from Fingon.

"You're beautiful." Maedhros said, halting his movements to to stare into Fingon's eyes.

"Flattery doesn't work on me." Fingon said, his lips quirking.  
  
"But, you're a politician." Maedhros teased, the corners of his eyes crinkling in good humor.

"I'm not _that_ type of politician." Fingon said airily.

"Still, you're a politician," Maedhros said. "By default, you're an incorrigible rouge." 

  
"I think that title falls to _you_." Fingon said, then gasped as Maedhros's lips closed over a gently pulsing vein on his neck. Then Maedhros _bit_ , and Fingon cried out, grasping the folds of Maedhros's leather coat.

Maedhros reached up, cupping Fingon's face with infinite tenderness, and Fingon nuzzled into the palm of his hand, baring the other side of his neck to Maedhros's lips and teeth.

Intending to leave a trail of passion that spanned the length of of Fingon's neck, Maedhros dipped his head down, then jerked it back up as a series of heavy knocks fell upon the room's door.

 "Mr. President?" a muffled voice from behind the door called. "Is everything alright in there?"  
  
Maedhros lifted his weight from atop Fingon and stepped back towards the window. Fngon raised himself up on his elbows, his eyes following Maedhros's every move.

"Stay." Fingon said, as Maedhros moved perilously close to the window. Maedhros paused with his hand on the windowsill, looking into Fingon's pleading eyes.  Then, he moves away from the window, and leaned on the wall next to it. 

Fingon rose from the bed, hastily smoothing his rumpled clothes and tugging up his collar to conceal the purpling mark on his neck. Seconds later, the room's door burst open, and several people rushed into the room.

"Mr. President!" the foremost of those people called. "We heard you shout." 

Fingon blinked, clutching his collar even tighter about his neck, unprepared to answer.  
  
"I startled him." Maedhros said, retrieving his hat from the floor with a clean swipe and setting it upon his head. All the eyes in the room turned to him, and an instant later, guns were drawn and pointed at him. 

"Who are you?" demanded the elf who had spoken first. The men behind the elf said nothing, but stolidly kept their guns trained on Maedhros. Fingon held out a hand, concern wrinkling his temple.

 

"Gentlemen, put away your guns. He's my cousin." Fingon said.

 

"Cousin?" the elf repeated, his gaze sweeping Maedhros from head to toe, hostility evident in his eyes. "Do you have any proof of this?"

Maedhros's mouth curled in a smile that was neither pleasant nor welcoming.

"I'm Maedhros Feanorian. There's your proof." he said sharply.

The elf's eyes widened in shock, and slowly, his gun was lowered and holstered, the men behind him following suit. Maedhros waited until the guns were all put away, then stepped over to Fingon, laying a gloved hand on his shoulder.   
  
  


Though he had put his gun away, the elf's eyes remained on him, staring suspiciously.

"How did you get in here?" the elf asked.

"The window." Maedhros answered shortly, nodding towards it. The elf crossed to the window and closed it with a heady amount of force, locking it swiftly.   
  
  
"I'm sorry, but we cannot allow just anyone to climb through the windows and be alone with the President, security reasons, you know." the elf said snidely, and Maedhros's eyes flared.   
  
  
Fingon held up his hands in a placating gesture.

 

"Saldhir, he is my cousin, he is hardly a threat to my security."  Fingon said to the elf.    
  
  
"Indeed not." Maedhros spoke up, his hand curling tightly around Fingon's shoulder. "I'm here to protect the President."  
  
Saldhir's hawkish eyes narrowed.   
  
"That will not be necessary." Saldhir said tightly. "Mr and my men provide ample security for the President."   
  
  
"If you and you your men are the only ones entrusted with the President's security, it seems that my services are required after all."  Maedhros shot back.   
  


" _Maitimo_." Fingon hissed, pushing himself up on his tiptoes to bring himself level with Maedhros's ear. "What are you doing? Where's that diplomacy of yours?"   
  
"I did not wait all these years to have to _negotiate_ to see you." Maedhros whispered back. 

"How _romantic_." Fingon chided in a low tone. "You're going to get yourself shot."     
  
  
"Not if I shoot them all first." Maedhros observed darkly. Fingon huffed into his ear and sank back down. 

 

Saldhir stared at them expectantly, and Fingon gave a small sigh.   
  


"Let's go, Saldhir." he said, gesturing towards the door, then looking towards Maedhros. "I have a meeting with the mayor..."  
  
"The mayor knows me." Maedhros interjected.   
  
"Then you can come with me." Fingon said, and walked over to the door. Maedhros followed him, knocking shoulders none to gently with Saldhir as he passed by.   
  
 

 

 

  
  
 

 


	10. Meet Me Tonight

If the mayor was surprised he hid it well, only raising his brows when Maedhros entered the parlour after Fingon. Fingon sat on one of the couches, facing the mayor, and Maedhros sat next to him, noting with satisfaction that Saldhir and the other men remained standing by the door.

The urge to grab Fingon and pull him onto his lap was a strong one, but Maedhros pushed it down, settling for reaching over and lightly putting his hand on Fingon's knee. Maedhros was aware of the eyes in the room tracking the rather intimate gesture, but no one made any comment. 

 

"Mr. President," the mayor began. "How long do you plan on staying here?"

 

"A week." Fingon answered immediately. "This rally will be the start of my reelection campaign, I need to make sure I'm in the public's eyes."

 

Maedhros's fingers tightened around Fingon's knee. A week. A week was all he had with Fingon. Still, it was better than nothing.

 

"If you want to be in the public eye, there's shows at the theater, and a town festival you can attend before the rally." the mayor continued. "They're popular entertainment around here, and you'll be giving the people a chance to see you enjoy yourself, it'll make you even more relatable."   
  
"The shows in the theater might not be to the President's taste, he's a person of refinement." Saldhir objected. Saldhir's proclamation, spoken with such confidence in the statement that Fingon was a person of refinement, alluding to knowledge of Fingon's preferences, sparked a flame of irritation in Maedhros.

  
"Maglor will be preforming at the theater." Maedhros said, his voice casual, but his words unmistakably directed at Saldhir. "The president _will_ enjoy himself."

"...Who is Maglor?" Saldhir began, but Fingon  was already turning to look at Maedhros, delight in his eyes.  
  
"Maglor is here?" Fingon asked.

"Yes, he's here, they all are." Maedhros said.  
  
"Who are _they?_ " Saldhir asked shrilly.   
  
"My cousins." Fingon said, looking over Maedhros's shoulder at Saldhir. "Maglor is an accomplished musician, it will be a treat to hear him play..." Fingon's eyes darted back to Maedhros. "I should go visit you all, now that you're all here together." Fingon said.  
  
Maedhros smiled.

"They'd be happy to see you." he said.  
  
  
"Forgive me, but the President is here on _formal business_." Saldhir said tersely. "I don't think..."  

"That would be perfect." the mayor broke in, drowning out Saldhir's words. "It would be quite advantageous for you to visit with your cousins, Mr. President." 

"Ah, why?" Maedhros asked, genuinely curious.  
  
"It would be excellent for his public image." the mayor explained. "The President has no current wife or children, and though he has connected with the people on almost every other platform, he doesn't have a link to the domestic affairs of the family. Visiting his cousins would show everyone he is invested with his family."  
  
Maedhros nodded. 

 

"You make a good point, mayor." Maedhros said, careful to keep the enthusiasm in his voice in check. "I'll bring my brothers over to meet with the President tomorrow.."

"Somewhere public." the mayor reminded.

"Yes, the racetrack. There's races tomorrow, a lot of the town will be there, and they'll get an eyeful if we all meet there." Maedhros said. The mayor looked to Fingon, who  offered a nod of consent.  
  
Saldhir made a peculiar noise of disapproval, and Maedhros threw him a challenging glance. Fingon wrapped his slim fingers around Maedhros's wrist, applying pressure deliberately. 

"I'll attend the show at the theater tonight, and visit the racetrack in the morning." Fingon said, looking at the mayor.

"The governor is riding in tomorrow, so we'll have to meet him in the afternoon, after the races." the mayor said. Fingon nodded assent. "I'll write out my itinerary." Fingon quipped.   
  
Maedhros laughed softly, and Fingon tugged on his wrist, still looking at the mayor.  
  
"Is that all, Mr. Mayor?" Fingon questioned pleasantly.

The mayor nodded, humor wrinkling his face as he moved to exit the parlour. 

"That's all for now, Mr. President. You already have security, I'll leave you to get settled in." Maedhros stood as the mayor left, knowing that staying any longer himself with good reason would cause certain suspicion.  
  
"I should...go too." Maedhros admitted haltingly. "I have a understanding with the sheriff I have to uphold." Fingon masked his disappointment well.   
  
"I'll see you out." Fingon said, making his way to the front door, still holding Maedhros's wrist. Saldhir moved to follow them, but Fingon waved him back. "I'll just be outside for a moment." Fingon demurred, opening the door and stepping out with Maedhros. 

Once outside, with the door closed securely behind them, Fingon plastered himself to Maedhros's side, raising himself up on his toes and brushing his lips against Maedhros's ear.  
  
"Meet me here tonight after the show." Fingon whispered into Maedhros's ear, then without waiting for a response, let his lips trail against Maedhros's neck for a brief second, then slipped back inside.  

  
At night, Maedhros sat in with the rest of the audience in the theater, instead of in the booth he had used before. The same booth was now occupied by Fingon and his guards, and Fingon was watching and listening enthralled as Maglor preformed. Maglor was as good as ever, but Maedhros was hardly focusing on his brother's performance.

The show ended an uncounted time later, and Maglor met Maedhros outside of the theater.  
  
"Are you going to go get some rest now?" Maglor inquired, casting a pointed look above at the starlit heavens. Maedhros shook his head. 

"I saw Fingon." Maglor stated even more pointedly.   
  
"Yes, he wanted to see you play. I've arranged for us all to meet tomorrow at the racetrack."

"I look forward to it." Maglor said, shooting his brother a knowing look, then striding off in the opposite direction.

 

Maedhros walked to the mayor's house, and knowing people were still out on the streets, forced each of his steps to be measured and level, instead of the sprint he wanted to employ. He reached the house after what felt to him like an eternity, and made his way to the back of the house.

The window of Fingon's bedroom was open, and not one guard was by it, as Maedhros had half-expected. But Maedhros was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and he launched himself through the open window into the unlit room, and found himself in the possession of an armful of Fingon.  
  
Suddenly giddy, Maedhros lifted Fingon off of his feet and spun around with him, before deliberately collapsing onto the bed, Fingon beneath him. In the moonlight that streamed through the window, Fingon's face was pale and beautiful.   
  
Fingon surged up suddenly, grabbing the lapels of Maedhros's suit jacket and yanking Maedhros flat atop him, his lips meeting Maedhros's. Their hair intertwined in loosely as they kissed, red mixing with black and gold.

Fingon's hands slid up, over Maedhros's shoulders, then caressing down his back, nails pressing through the cloth of Maedhros's jacket. Maedhros's knee found it's way between Fingon's legs, his hands settling on Fingon's waist, and his lips still working hungrily on Fingon's.  


He broke the kiss moments later, gasping lowly for air, instead pressing his lips tenderly up Fingon's jaw, to his ear.

 

"Finno, _Findekano_." Maedhros whispered huskily into Fingon's ear. One of Fingon's hands cupped the scarred side of Maedhros's face in response, blue eyes searching green. 

"I love you." Maedhros confided.  
  
Fingon's answering smile was so _sweet_ , so _happy_ , it made Maedhros chest _ache_ just to look at it.  
  
"And I love you." Fingon replied simply.  
  
     
 Maedhros's lips covered Fingon's again, his emotional admission having been given and received with a kindred admission, left Maedhros open to his passion. Shortly, Maedhros's lips descended from Fingon's mouth to his neck, tugging aside Fingon's collar with one deft hand as he bit a mark into Fingon's skin to match the one given earlier, his hands sliding smoothly down Fingon's thighs.  
  
Fingon gasped out, but his hands were busy, flying over the buttons of Maedhros's dress vest and silk shirt. Maedhros grinned as he felt his clothes loosen, and the grin was something close to predatory, that sent a pleasant shiver through Fingon.

"Maitimo." Fingon began, but stopped, throwing his arm over his eyes as the soft shine of the moon was replaced by the warm glow of a lantern. 


	11. Into The Love Shack

Maedhros flung his head back, staring directly into the light that poured through the window. Fingon kept his arm draped over his face, his other hand grasping blindly at Maedhros. 

"Maitimo, what is it?" Fingon asked. Blinking rapidly, Maedhros attempted to look through the glare of the yellow light. A moment later, the light receded, and Maedhros saw Saldhir's face illuminated in the windowframe by the dimmer glow.

Snarling out a particularity nasty curse in Quenya, Maedhros leapt off the bed and to the window, bringing himself face to face with Saldhir. 

"What are you doing here?" Maedhros hissed.

"What are _you_ doing here!"  Saldhir shot back, swinging the lantern he held so that it splashed light over Maedhros. Maedhros cast a look down at himself, his hair was mussed, his shirt and vest unfastened and hanging loosely over his chest, not to mention the _other,_ quite prominent indicator of his recent actions.    

"What does look like I'm doing?" Maedhros growled, his eyes shimmering dangerously with the reflected light of the lantern.    
  
Saldhir's mouth formed into a vindictive frown, although shock was clouding his eyes.

 

"I knew you were trouble the moment I set eyes on you!" Saldhir crowed. "And now here I find you, assaulting the President!" 

"...Assaulting the...president?" Maedhros sputtered in disbelief, his accent growing thicker. "Little boy, there is no assaultin' going on around here, if it wasn't for you, the _President_ would already be on my-"  
  
"Maitimo!" Fingon yelped in mortification from the bed, cutting off Maedhros's words.

"Mr. President, are you alright?!" Saldhir called out concernedly at the sound of Fingon's voice. 

  
"I'm fine, Saldhir." Fingon called back.  
  
"Yes, he's fine." Maedhros repeated, glaring at Saldhir. "Now close that window and go on about your business."  
  
"My business to to guard the President." Saldhir informed Maedhros tartly. "And obliviously, he needs protection."  
  
"I'm not a threat to anyone in this house. Except _you_."  Maedhros ground out darkly.  
  
"Are you threatening me?" Saldhir inquired incredulously.   
  
"I _am_ threatening you." Maedhros replied, with all the casual confidence of a person mentioning that Tuesday did indeed follow after Monday. Fingon groaned from behind Maedhros in vexation, and Maedhros threw a fond glance over his shoulder.

"I'll be right there, Finno." he assured his cousin. "I just have to get rid of a pest."

Saldhir's lips pursed, his eyes flaring.

"I refuse to allow you to make such inappropriate advances to the President under my watch!" Saldhir declared fervently, and shoved his free hand against Maedhros's chest, trying to push him aside.  
  
"Let me through!" Saldhir ordered sharply.

  
Maedhros stepped back from the window, holding an arm outstretched in mocking invitation.

"By all means, do come in, you can sit in the corner and watch us." Maedhros remarked.   

"Watch you?" Saldhir echoed suspiciously.

The side of Maedhros's face quirked in an expression that was a blend of annoyance and contempt.  
  
"Do you think I came here to discuss the races with him?" Maedhros asked shortly. Saldhir didn't reply, but his face screwed up in a picturesque mask of dawning understanding, though Maedhros continued despite that. "No, I came here to-"  
  
"MAITIMO!" Fingon shouted, once more cutting Maedhros off before he could make a scarring admission. "Come here, both of of you."

Maedhros moved from the window back to the bed, leaving Saldhir to climb through the window on his own. Fingon sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Saldhir held up his lantern, looking at Fingon through its glow, his eyes narrowing as they zeroed in on the pale purple marks that blossomed on Fingon's neck.

   
Anger flashed across Saldhir's face, and Maedhros pounced on the revealed weakness with the deadly intent of a cat on a hunted mouse.

"You damned hypocrite!" Maedhros said. "You accuse me of making inappropriate advances, when you're the one who probably sneaks in when he's asleep to-"  
  
"Shut up!" Saldhir snapped before Maedhros could say more, casting a wary glance at Fingon.  
  
"If you don't want to hear it, then get out." Maedhros said.  
  
"I'm _staying_." Saldhir responded, setting the lantern down on a table pointedly. Maedhros growled, his hand creeping towards his holster. Fingon, who was well aware of where Maedhros's train of thought, and fingers, were headed, intercepted Saldhir's likely murder by slipping his arms around Maedhros from behind, and unbuckling his gunbelt with practiced ease, pulling it off Maedhros's waist and tossing it to the far side of the bed.

  
"You sneaky little thing." Maedhros said, looking over his shoulder at Fingon. In the light of the lantern, the gold in Fingon's braids shone, framing Fingon's face in a golden glow. Forgetting his audience, Maedhros inclined his head towards Fingon, meeting Fingon's lips, Fingon pressed against him, deepening the contact, and Saldhir cleared his throat, loudly.

 

"Son-of-a-gun!' Maedhros advocated loudly, pulling back from Fingon, and starting to rise.  Fingon grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down, running a soothing hand over his back.

"Get out!" Maedhros hissed at Saldhir.      


"Let him stay." Fingon murmured softly into Maedhros's ear. "He'll cause a ruckus if we don't let him." 

" _I'll_ cause a ruckus if I don't get to be alone with you." Maedhros said, but obedient to Fingon's whims, made no more movement against Saldhir. 

Saldhir turned a chair to face the bed and sat on it, eyes flashing haughtily at Maedhros.

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Maedhros shifted his body, backing himself against the headboard of the bed, tugging Fingon along with him. Fingon settled into the curve of his body, resting his head on Maedhros's chest, his thick braids spilling everywhere.

Casually, Maedhros twined a braid around his finger, throwing a triumphant look at Saldhir out of the corner of his eyes. 

Saldhir gritted his teeth, Maedhros could tell from the clench of his jaw.   
  
"So, how long have you loved him?" Maedhros inquired, his voice falsely polite. "I loved him since he was a child, we used to chase each other around our uncle's garden, and our first kiss was-" 

Exasperated, Fingon hit Maedhros on the thigh with the palm of hand, though the blow hardly caused any pain. 

"Shut up." Fingon said, then undermined his own stern words by nestling closer against Maedhros's body. Saldhir glared bitterly at Maedhros, and Maedhros retained a look of contented ease. 

 

"Do you always watch the President sleep?" Maedhros inquired.  
 

"No, but this a special occasion." Saldhir said brusquely. They lapsed into silence after that, but held each other's gaze in a stalemate. 

The sound of footsteps in the hall beyond broke them out of their stalemate, all eyes darting to the door as someone knocked.

"Mr. President?" a voice said from outside. "I heard some noises."  

Maedhros's eyes returned to Saldhir's face.   
  
"If you say a _word_." he threatened quietly.   
  
Staring Maedhros in the eyes, Saldhir opened his mouth to speak.

 

 


	12. At The Racetrack

"There's a-" Saldhir began, but Fingon spoke up loudly, halting and drowning Saldhir's words.  
  
"It's nothing, I was just moving some furniture around and reading aloud." Fingon said, his voice sincere, and calm, though his fingers were curled around Maedhros's thigh in a steel grip.   
  
  
"Alright Mr. President, goodnight." the voice behind the door said, and the sound of footsteps faded away down the hall.   
  
"Stop arguing." Fingon said when the footsteps dimmed into silence, casting Saldhir and Maedhros irritated glances from under his dark lashes. "You'll get us caught, do you know the uproar it would cause if the President was found in bed with his cousin? At least let me get through the reelection without involving me in a scandal." Fingon said agitation.  
  
  
"It would hardly count as a scandal, we still have our clothes on." Maedhros objected. "Although, I could fix that." he added in a lighter tone.   
  
"Not tonight, Maitimo." Fingon said in a disappointed voice, running his hand over Maedhros thigh. "We can't risk it. A sigh escaped Maedhros's lips, and he slumped back against the headboard. 

"How much trouble will it cause if we are found out?" he asked. "Back home, they never really paid us no mind, you know."

"It's not so much people discovering you and him are together, than it is the opposing political party." Saldhir interrupted. "They'll do anything they can to give Fingon a bad name so he isn't reelected, and catching him with an infamous bounty hunter is exactly the dirt they need to question his morals." 

Maedhros's eyes flashed to Saldhir in rising anger, but he held it back, remembering Fingon's behest.  
  
"Who is the Presidential candidate of the opposing party?" he said instead.

"Ulfang." replied Saldhir. "He seems a decent man himself, but his party is set against the President."

Maedhros grimaced.  
  
"Those people have no idea what a blessing Fingon is for this country." Maedhros declared hotly.

"I never said they were smart." Saldhir muttered, earning a short laugh from Maedhros.  
  
"Maedhros was going to run for President once." Fingon broke in as Maedhros's laugh trailed off. "He would have been elected, no question, but he stepped aside and let me run."

Saldhir's eyes widened in astonishment.  
  
"Why would you step aside, if you were so sure of winning?"  Saldhir demanded, looking at Maedhros.  
  
"Because it was who Fingon was the best choice to lead this country." Maedhros said, casting a loving look down at Fingon. "He proved that when he-" here Maedhros stopped short, his lips thinning.

"When he what?" Saldhir prompted impatiently, ignoring the change in Maedhros's mood. Maedhros shot a warning glare at Saldhir, which was also summarily ignored.  
  
"He got me out of some big trouble, and I knew then, out of any of us, he the one fit to lead." Maedhros said briefly.

Partial understanding flickered in Saldhir's eyes.  
  
"What trouble did he get you out of?" Saldhir continued in genuine curiosity.  
  
"Story time is over." Maedhros said tartly. "Go to sleep."  
  
A sigh of annoyance hissed from Saldhir's lips, but he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other.  
  
"I don't like you very much." Saldhir informed Maedhros.  
  
"Well, that makes two of us." Maedhros shot back, then looked at Fingon, expecting a reprimand.  But Fingon's eyes, though still open, were unseeing, and Maedhros knew he was asleep.  
  
Carefully, Maedhros tugged a blanket over Fingon, and eased his body down so Fingon was laying more evenly on his chest. Saldhir made a sharp noise, and Maedhros looked over at him, the corner of his mouth turning upwards in a small smirk. 

"Do you know what I would like to _do_ to _you_ if we are ever alone?" Maedhros inquired, letting his gaze deliberately sweep over Saldhir.  
  
Saldhir shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"What would you like to do to me?" Saldhir asked cautiously, obviously expecting an indecent answer. And Maedhros did not disappoint.  
  
"Break your neck. If we're ever alone, I'd like to break your neck." Maedhros said darkly.    
  
Saldhir scoffed, hiding his relief by letting his head fall onto the back of his chair. Maedhros turned his back to Saldhir, arranging himself so he was laying face to face with Fingon, his arms around Fingon, and slipped into sleep.  


 

Maedhros woke early the next morning, and leaving a soft kiss on Fingon's forehead, he slipped out the window as the sun rose, making his way to Maglor's cottage. Maglor and Caranthir were sitting on the front steps sipping coffee, dressed in suits. Maedhros greeted them with a nod and strode past them, into the house.

A rowdy breakfast was taking place at the table, which accounted for Maglor and Caranthir's self-imposed exile. The occupants of the table broke into cheers when Maedhros stepped into view, but it was Celegorm who made himself appointed spokesman.  
  
"Back so soon?" Celegorm jeered, raising his cup in salutations."That was certainly quick."

"Get dressed, all of you, we're meeting Findekano at the race track." Maedhros said, ignoring Celegorm and swiping a cup of coffee from Amrod. 

"So, that means Fingon can still walk? Shame on you brother, you didn't do your job properly." Celegorm chided, earning snickers from the Ambarussa.

"Nothing even happened." Maedhros grumbled, throwing Celegorm a dirty look, though Celegorm wasn't daunted.  
  
"You're losing your touch, brother." Celegorm said. Maedhros pulled a disgusted face and swung back out the door, cup of coffee still in hand, his brothers' laughter clinging to his back.

  
  
  
The day was bright, and the racetrack was crowded, so it was bountiful audience that was privy to the joyful meeting between the President and his cousins. Maedhros stood on the sidelines, speaking softly to the horses, given the discussion of the night before, it wouldn't do to appear so familiar with Fingon in public.

"What a happy reunion." said a voice at Maedhros's elbow, and Maedhros turned to see the mayor. "And such a pleasant surprise, who knew the president's cousins were here, in this very town?" the mayor continued, a glint of humor in his eyes.   
  


"Yes, who knew?" Maedhros murmured, deciding that he liked the mayor.   
  
"Why aren't you out greeting the president?" the mayor asked slyly.   
  
"I already greeted him, you were there yesterday when I came over to see him." Maedhros said distractedly, his eyes tracking Fingon's form.   
  
"Mr. Brownstone tells me that you have been _informally_ greeting the President." the mayor said lightly. Maedhros's head snapped around.   
  
"Mr. Saldhir Brownstone?" Maedhros asked tightly.   
  
"That's the one." the mayor answered.    
  
"Excuse me, mayor." Maedhros said, moving away at a fast pace and making a beeline through the crowd.


	13. Tiles And Fights

"What the _hell!_ " Saldhir wheezed as he was crushed up against the wooden wall of the stable, Maedhros's furious face only inches from his own.

"What did you tell the mayor?!" Maedhros hissed, his red brows drawing down over his eyes until they were only two slits of green. Saldhir blinked rapidly, his eyes meeting Maedhros's, and decided that playing coy would not be expedient to keeping his good health.   
  
"I told him you were sneaking on in to see the President." Saldhir said, squirming forward in Maedhros's grip. "It's a breach of security, and the mayor needs to know, he's the one responsible for it."

"You jackass!" Maedhros growled, punctuating his words by slamming Saldhir back against the stable. "If you tell him what we were doing, it means trouble for Fingon!"  
  
"Do you think I would do anything to jeopardize the President?" Saldhir snarled, displaying his white teeth in a manner reminiscent of a young wolf. "You have no problem jeopardizing him, but I would never!"  Maedhros's lips tightened, the redheaded elf thinking that he would very much like to knock out some of those pearly teeth. And so, he did.  
  
Maedhros's fist came crashing down on Saldhir's face, and Saldhir stumbled to the ground, one hand clamped over his mouth, blood dribbling from between his fingers.  
  
"You _son-of-a-bitch_!" Saldhir warbled through a mouthful of blood.

"That's no way to speak about my mother." Maedhros said coolly, advancing on Saldhir. Saldhir leapt to his feet, spitting out blood, pure blood, no teeth were mixed in the red liquid, much to Maedhros's disappointment.    
  
  
"Stay away from the President." Saldhir hissed, his hand straying to his holster.  
  
"Don't do it." Maedhros warned. With true contrariness, Saldhir yanked his gun from its holster, and stared in shock as it fell to the ground moments later, having been knocked from his hand by Maedhros's bullet.  
  
"I told you not to." Maedhros gloated.  
  
Not bothering to retrieve his fallen gun, Saldhir launched himself at Maedhros, and was knocked back several feet by a well placed fist.   
  
"You're the one who needs to stay away." Maedhros said, replacing his gun and tugging on his gloves, so that the leather lay without wrinkles over his skin.

"I'm the President's guard. You're the bounty hunter who is sparkin' with the President, I'm the respectable man round' here." Saldhir snapped. "You're the one that'll bring him trouble."

Maedhros's eyes flared in displeasure, the hint of a hard smile on his lips.  
  
"Little boy, I did not wait for years to see Fingon again to let a little trouble get in my way." Maedhros hissed. "If anything-" here a pointed glare was directed at Saldhir "-gets in my way, it'll be _removed_."

"Not if I remove you first." Saldhir retorted, and Maedhros grimaced in rage, lifting his arms in a way that at any other time, would be considered inviting. "Well, come on then." Maedhros said.  
  
Saldhir stood still for a moment, but personal grievances overtook all other considerations. He made a second rush at Maedhros, and succeeded in connecting with him. They went down in a flurry of leather and long hair, rolling around in the dirt like two truant schoolboys.  
  
It had been a long time since Maedhros had last fought someone, his usual confrontations never escalated to the point where he became physically involved. Still, his sheer height and strength took over any lapse of expertise, though Saldhir himself fought like a cornered bobcat. 

 

"If you say anything to anyone again," Maedhros said, each word intercepted with a blow landing somewhere onSaldhir's body, "I'll kill you."

Saldhir's response, which was muffled by his arms that were shielding his face, was unsavory.  
  
"Did your mother never teach you manners?" Maedhros quipped. Furiously, Saldhir planted a booted foot in Maedhros's stomach and rolled away from him, Maedhros caught Saldhir by the back of his jacket, and dragged him back, raising his fist. 

His incoming blow was arrested by the sound of wheels creaking, and Fingon's stagecoach pulled to a halt at beside Maedhros and Saldhir's heads. Fingon exited the 'coach, a pinched expression on his face.  
  
"Maitimo!" Fingon hissed, crouching down beside Maedhros and grabbing handfuls of his coat, puling him away from Saldhir. "What are you doing?! People are staring!"  
  
Yanking Maedhros to his feet, Fingon shoved him in the direction of the stagecoach.  
  
" _Come on_!" Fingon threw over his shoulder at Saldhir, and herded Maedhros into the stagecoach.  
  
  
  
  
The stagecoach rattled down the road, Maedhros and Fingon sitting together on one side of the stagecoach, and Saldhir sitting on the opposite side, ignored by the other two, who were in the midst of a heated discussion.  
  
"What were you _thinking_ , Maitimo!" Fingon shouted, his pale blue eyes darkened in anger.  
  
"I was thinking about you! If the kid talks to the wrong person, then you're in for trouble, you said so yourself!" Maedhros shouted back.

"I can handle it, I don't need you starting a row on my account!"

"I was looking out for you!" 

"No, you were looking out for yourself! You're jealous!" Fingon slapped Maedhros's arm, palm colliding with the leather sleeve covering it with a dull sound.  
  
"Can you blame me! I haven't seen you for years, and now I'm finally with you, and I have to deal with some youngster who's fawning all over you!" Maedhros growled out.  
  
"I can handle that too! You need to act rational!"  
  
"I love you! Do you expect me to act rational?!"

Fingon stared at Maedhros, anger and tenderness warring in his eyes, then he threw himself across the seat at Maedhros, his fingers digging into Maedhros's shoulders, his lips hungrily pressing to Maedhros's. 

" _Stupid_ , _stupid_ , you're so _stupid_!" Fingon complained against Maedhros's lips. A raspy chuckle rose from Maedhros's chest, his hands coming up and cradling Fingon's head. 

"I never said wasn't." Maedhros admitted, biting at Fingon's lower lip. Fingon keened, nails threatening to slice through the thick leather of Maedhros's coat.  
  
" _Idiot_." Fingon said. Maedhros growled in answer, pinning Fingon between the seat and his own body, hands curled into black and gold braids as he kissed Fingon roughly and thoroughly.

" _Oh, my Lord_." Saldhir intoned, looking away from Maedhros and Fingon and dutifully staring out the stagecoach's window.

The stagecoach stopped at the town hall minutes later, and Saldhir was the first to get out. Fingon and Maedhros followed, hastily smoothing their clothes into some semblance of order. A suited man who Maedhros recognized as one of Fingon's guards met the three at the doors of the town hall.  
  
"The governor is here." the man said, looking curiously at Maedhros. Fingon followed the man's politely questioning gaze.   
  
"My cousin is here to provide extra security." Fingon said, recovering his composure. The man's eyes flitted to Saldhir, looking at his bloody mouth, but Saldhir merely shook his head.   
  
"Tell the governor I'll be with him shortly." Fingon said to the man. The man nodded and walked off, casting a glance over his shoulder at Maedhros. Maedhros rounded on Saldhir as the man disappeared.  
  
"Did you tell him something too?" Maedhros demanded.   
  
" _Maitimo_." Fingon cut in. Maedhros sighed and stepped back.  
  
"I have a meeting with the governor, and you two can't come to that meeting. You'll have to stay out here, but there will be _no fighting._ Your little ruckus will be all over the papers tomorrow, I don't need to add to it."

"Understood." Maedhros said, casting a glance around the room. Determining that he, Fingon and Saldhir were the only ones present, Maedhros leaned in for a kiss, which Fingon eagerly returned.   
  
"I am still angry." Fingon informed him as he broke the kiss, then hurried off, disappearing into another room, leaving Maedhros and Saldhir alone.  
  
The two stared at each other for a moment, then Maedhros turned away, walking over to a table and sitting on one of the chairs surrounding it. On the table, near where  Maedhros was sitting, was a an unpacked chessboard.   
  
Maedhros picked up pawn, rolling it between his fingers, then looked up meditatively at Saldhir, the anger in his eyes dimmed by interest. 

"Do you play?" Maedhros inquired.   
  
"I...yes." Saldhir answered in surprise.

"Then let's play." Maedhros said. Saldhir regarded him suspiciously. "We should call a truce, at least for this meeting. After all, you wouldn't do _anything_ to _jeopardize_ the President, would you?" Maedhros continued.   
  
Glaring hatefully at Maedhros, Saldhir settled himself into a seat opposite Maedhros.  
  
"I reckoned you'd like cards, not chess." Saldhir said.

"I like cards fine." Maedhros replied, lining up the chess pieces on their starting squares, then turning the board so the white pieces faced Saldhir. "But chess has more _strategy_."

                  


 

 


	14. The Pendulum Swing

Saldhir muttered under his breath, sliding his Knight in an L formation over three checkered squares. Maedhros watched impassively, his gaze searing through the fringes of his red lashes. 

"I propose a bet." Maedhros said, sliding his Queen forward by two squares and deftly capturing a Pawn. Saldhir swore softly as the Pawn was removed from the board, but his eyes sparked with interest.   
  
"A bet?"  
  
"Yes. If you win this game, I agree to any terms you wish. If I win...you agree to my terms." 

"What are the terms?' Saldhir asked, sliding his King a behind a Bishop for cover.

"If I win, you will cease interfering with me and Fingon, I will see him when I want to see him, and you will turn around and walk the other way."  Saldhir bristled, but nodded assent. "Your terms now." Maedhros queried.  
  
"You'll stay away from the President, you won't try to see him unless you've been properly authorized too." Saldhir said quickly, shooting a wary look at Maedhros. But Maedhros merely shrugged.  
  
"Deal." Maedhros said, flicking a Pawn forward a square.  
  
The game resumed intensity, the chess pieces traveling over the board as if they had legs of their own. White pieces and black pieces took their respective places off the board as they were captured, leaving only a handful of their comrades.

Maedhros's remaining Bishop crept forward, undaunted by the opposing Pawns, and stood triumphantly before Saldhir's King.  
  
" _Checkmate._ " Maedhros grinned. Saldhir's fist came crashing down onto the tabletop, sending the chess pieces skittering in fright.  
  
"Dad-gum it!" Saldhr swore, lips pinching together. Maedhros's grin widened, and he leaned back in his chair with contented grace, draping his arm up, over the side of it.  
  
"You cheated." Saldhir accused.  
  
"You can't cheat at chess." Maedhros murmured, tipping his head back, his hair falling over his shoulders in a graceful sprawl.

 "If there was a way of cheating, I'm sure you would know of it." Saldhir remarked sourly.  
  
Maedhros's response was a caustic laugh, and the two fell silent.

"You aren't going to honor the terms of the bet, are you?" Maedhros asked minutes later.

"No." Saldhir said through gritted teeth.

"Pity." Maedhros said, and the two lapsed into silence again.  
  
  
  
  
When Fingon emerged hours later, Maedhros and Saldhir were still sitting ensconced in a film of silence, but were staring unblinking at each other in a intense parody of a duel. Fingon rolled his eyes heavenward and approached the table. 

"Maitimo, do you know if Maglor is playing at the theater tonight?" Fingon questioned, slipping into a chair beside Maedhros.  
  
"I'll ask him." Maedhros said. "But why?"  
  
"The governor and I are having a private reception at the mayor's, I want Kano to come play for us." Fingon explained, smiling charmingly. "You're invited of course, but the others..."

A breath of amusement left Maedhros's lips.  
   
"Moro is too busy counting money to attend, Curvo has a pair of horses to shoe, and Tyelko and the Ambarussa prefer the saloon to formal dinners. They won't miss out on much." Maedhros assured him.  
  
"I'll see _you_ there then." Fingon said.  
  
Maedhros smiled, lifting one of Fingon's hands to his lips and brushing a long kiss upon its knuckles, throwing a sharp glance at Saldhir as he did so.

Saldhir huffed, and Maedhros left the town hall with a pert smile on his lips.

 

"I hear you went at it hammer and tongs with that little Sindarian guard." were Celegorm's first words as Maedhros stepped into Maglor's cottage.  
  
"You heard correct." Maedhros admitted.  
  
"So, what was the trouble? The entire town will be talking about it for days." Maedhros shrugged, and sprawled out on a couch, his long frame covering its entire length.  
  
"We have differences, regarding Fingon." Maedhros mumbled.  
  
"Oh, you're jealous." Celegorm said matter-of-factly.

"Is Maglor playing at the theater tonight?" Maedhros said, changing the subject. 

"No, I don't think so. He's free tonight." Maedhros made a noise of understanding. "I'm taking the Ambarussa and myself to one of the ranches tonight." Celegorm continued. "I know one of the ranchers there."    
  
"I'll be gone for the night again." Maedhros said, sitting up and getting back to his feet. "I'm going to a reception at the mayor's house."     
  
"You're getting to be quite the society man." Celegorm said.  
  
Maedhros scoffed.  


He _was_ getting to be quite the society man, Maedhros thought, as he milled around the mayor's house that night, a drink in his hand. He was fairly antsy, not having participated in a social gathering in quite a while. Saldhir attached to his discomfort like a leech to blood, much to Maedhros's chagrin.  
  
"Aren't you enjoying yourself?" Saldhir asked, meandering over to Maedhros, and raising a critical brow.   
  
Maedhros glared at him. None of the people who had witnessed him and Saldhir fight that morning were present, for which Maedhros was grateful, the situation was rapidly becoming awkward enough.

Maglor was sitting in the parlour, playing the grand piano that stood in it, and the sound of sweet music that trickled around the house was what stopped Maedhros from snapping at Saldhir.  
  
"I'm enjoying myself. It's just been a while, that's all." Maedhros said with forced calmness, taking a lengthy drink of his whiskey. "Me and family used to go to gatherings, receptions, parties, all the time, then we sailed over here...and there wasn't a reason to do things like that anymore."  
  
  
  
"Sailed?" Saldhir echoed. "Then you're an Englishman."

"And you're a Yankee." Maedhros replied snidely, turning away. A round of applause directed at Maglor drowned any response Saldhir was going to give.  
  
"Does anybody want to sing a song for us?" Maedhros heard the mayor call out half jokingly.  
  
"Go sing." Maedhros said to Saldhir, lacing his words with a challenge, hoping Saldhir would take the real meaning behind his words and _leave_. But Saldhir seemed intent on going above and beyond any of Maedhros's wishes.

"I will then." Saldhir snapped, and stalked into the parlour. Maedhros paid no mind for precisely two minutes, until the piano began to be played again, in more jovial tune then what had been played last, and a voice, Saldhir's voice, began singing.

 

 " _I come from Alabama,_  
_With a banjo on my knee_  
_I'm going to Louisiana,_  
_My true love for to see._ "  
  
Maedhros walked to the parlour, looking in through the doorway. Maglor was sitting at the piano, his back to the room, but Saldhir was facing the room's occupants. At the words ' _my true love for to see_ ' Saldhir cast a glance at Fingon, the glance was imperceptible to anyone else, was not missed by Maedhros.

" _It rained all night the day I left_  
_The weather it was dry_  
_The sun so hot, I froze to death_  
_Susannah, don't you cry."_  
  
Saldhir's voice was high, but pitched perfectly, like a tinkling stream. Maedhros hated it.

 _"Oh, Susannah,_  
_Oh don't you cry for me_  
_For I come from Alabama_  
_With a banjo on my knee."_  
  
Fingon, however, was listening with shining eyes, obviously delighted in the simple song. Saldhir took immediate notice of Fingon's enjoyment, and let his eyes dart to the doorway where Maedhros stood.  

_"I had a dream the other night_  
 _When everything was still_  
 _I dreamed I saw Susannah dear_  
 _A-coming down the hill."  
  
  
_ Slowly, Maedhros stepped into the parlour _,_ jealousy hot in his chest. __  
  


 _"The buckwheat cake was in her mouth_  
 _The tear was in her eye_  
 _Says I, “I'm coming from the south,_  
 _Susannah, don't you cry.”  
  
_ Fingon laughed at the verse, a smile spreading over his face. __  


_"Oh, Susannah,_   
_Oh don't you cry for me_   
_For I come from Alabama_   
_With a banjo on my knee."_   
  


Saldhir's eyes returned to Fingon, now, purposely looking at him as he sang the next verse.

_"I come from A-la-ba-ma_   
_With a ban-jo on my knee,_   
_I'm going to Lou-i-siana,_   
_My true love for to see."  
_

  
Maedhros's eyes narrowed, his fingers closing tightly around the glass he held.  
  
_"Oh, Su-san-nah, oh,_  
 _Don't you cry for me,_  
 _For I come from A-la-ba-ma_  
 _With a ban-jo on my knee."_  
  


Saldhir finished with a trilling note, and was rewarded with a brilliant smile from Fingon. 

"Well, that was something!" the mayor declared, as Saldhir was given an enthusiastic round of applause. "Is there anyone else who'd like to sing a bit? Ladies?" the mayor inquired, looking around at his assembled guests.

"I'll sing." Maedhros said, setting his glass down and stepping forward.

 

 


	15. Song And Ride

Maedhros came to stand by the piano, patting Maglor lightly on the shoulder as he took up the spot Saldhir had just vacated. Maglor's eyes flitted up to his, amusement clear in them, a sly smirk playing at the corners of his lips, an expression that indicated amusement would be enjoyed at Maedhros's expense later.

Then Maglor's hands darted out over the piano's keys, and a simple, pleasant tune sounded out. Maedhros looked to Saldhir, catching Saldhir's eyes, before looking directly at Fingon, and singing the first verse of the song in a level, deep voice.  
  
  
  
" _From this valley they say you are going._  
_We will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile,_  
_For they say you are taking the sunshine_  
_That has brightened our pathway a while._ "

 The enjoyment that had filled Fingon's face during Saldhir's song faded, to be replaced with something more intense, his eyes becoming riveted on Maedhros. Maedhros's eyes gleamed warmly in response, and his voice sweetened to almost a mournful tone as he sang the next verse.  
  
  
" _So come sit by my side if you love me._  
_Do not hasten to bid me adieu._  
_Just remember the Red River Valley,_  
_And the cowboy that has loved you so true_."

Fingon's smile as the words left Maedhros's lips was the brightest thing in the room, he knew full well who the ' _cowboy that has loved you so true'_ was meant to be.   
  
" _I've been thinking a long time, my darling,_  
_Of the sweet words you never would say,_  
_Now, alas, must my fond hopes all vanish?_  
_For they say you are going away_."

The rest of the people in the room were beginning to murmur in appreciation at Maedhros's rendering of the familiar song, but Fingon said nothing, only he could interpret the longing and regret that Maedhros infused into those particular lines of the song. ' _For they say you are going away.._."

 _"Won't you think of the valley you're leaving,_  
_Oh, how lonely and sad it will be,_  
_Just think of the fond heart you're breaking,_  
_And the grief you are causing to me_."  
  
Maedhros continued, his voice almost mournful now, and the next verses were a plea, and a statement that Fingon knew to be irrevocably true.  
  
" _From this valley they say you are going,_  
_When you go, may your darling go too?_  
_Would you leave him behind unprotected,_  
_When he loves no one other than you_."

Maedhros did indeed fulfill the words ' _He loves no one other than you_...'  
  
Maedhros extended his hand, it was a casual gesture to anyone watching, but from the gentle curl of his fingers, the angle at which his arm was held, Fingon knew Maedhros was reaching for him.

" _As you go to your home by the ocean,_  
_May you never forget those sweet hours,_  
_That we spent in the Red River Valley,_  
_And the love we exchanged 'mid the flowers_."  
  
Maedhros let his gaze flit over to Saldhir, and saw anger in the elf's eyes as Fingon's face lit with memory. Good.

" _I have promised you, darling, that never_  
_Will a word from my lips cause you pain,_  
_And my life, it will be yours forever,_  
_If you only will love me again_."  
  
Fingon's smile brightened, if that was possible.

" _They will bury me where you have wandered,_  
_Near the hills where the daffodils grow,_  
_When you're gone from the Red River valley,_  
_For I can't live without you I know_."

Fingon was the first to clap as Maedhros's voice faded smoothly into silence, and he was soon joined by applause from everyone else. Maedhros dipped into a quick bow, then straightened, sinking back towards the doorway and relinquishing the spotlight to one of the ladies who had come up to sing. 

Saldhir crossed the room to him, his face pinched in an expression Maedhros was becoming quite familiar with.  
  
"What did you _do_?" Saldhir hissed in a low whisper. Maedhros questioned him with raised brows.  
  
"You can't sing a song like _that_ , you're practically telling everyone that you and the President-" Maedhros reached up, and grabbed the back of Saldhir's collar, and backed out of the room with him, Fingon's eyes following them in sudden concern.  
  
"First off, I'll sing whatever the hell I please. Second, a song won't tell anyone anything." Maedhros said once they were out of earshot in the room beyond.  
  
"You made it obvious! You were singing like an opera diva while making eyes at him! Someone is bound to put two and two together!" Saldhir said heatedly.

"No one will be putting anythin' together, so as long as you keep your trap shut!" Maedhros snapped.    
  
"How dare you insinuate-"  
  
"I'm insinuating it all right. Besides, I wasn't the only one makin' eyes at him. You don't think someone will wonder about how prettily _you_ sang for him?"  
  
"Why, you!-"  
  
  
"Maitimo." Fingon's voice put a halt to the escalating argument. Both Saldhir and Maedhros turned, Fingon's head was peeking around the doorway, his bright eyes fixed on Maedhros.  
  
"Do you want to go riding with me tomorrow, early in the morning?" Fingon inquired innocently, though his twinkling eyes hinted at more nefarious purposes.

"How could I refuse, Mr. President?" Maedhros assented.

Fingon's smile was wide at Maedhros's agreement, though it suddenly softened, and Fingon blinked rapidly, a curious expression of shyness shadowing his face.

"...That was...a beautiful song, Maitimo." Fingon said softly, shyly, then slipped away before Maedhros could give an answer. Maedhros looked at Saldhir.  
  
"It'll be best for your health if you honor the terms of the bet tomorrow morning." Maedhros informed him sternly. Saldhir crossed his arms, nodding peevishly.

 

 

The sprawling green landscape of the wild west stretched out before them, the sun was rising behind their backs. Laughing, Maedhros and Fingon raced their horses down a grassy slope, the wind rushing into their faces, blowing their hair out in trails of black and red.   
  
A remote copse of trees lay ahead, and they spurred their horses to it, Maedhros thundering into a clearing in the trees a quarter mile ahead of Fingon. Maedhros had dismounted and was leaning against a tree when Fingon arrived in the clearing. 

"I won the race." Maedhros called up to him.  
  
Fingon slipped off his horse, giving it a light tap on the flank, and the beast meandered away to graze with Maedhros's horse a ways off.

"Only because I've been out of practice." Fingon retorted. "Sitting in an office for nearly four years doesn't give me much time for riding."

"Not to mention your security." Maedhros said, in a tone which made very clear who he meant.  
  
"Saldhir is just over...zealous. He takes his job too seriously." Fingon said. "He tried to talk me into not going riding with you today, he's convinced you have ulterior motives against me."    

Maedhros approached Fingon, steadily backing him against a tree.  
  
"Oh, he was right about me having ulterior motives. Just not the kind he was thinking of." Maedhros admitted with a brazen grin, capturing Fingon between his body and the coarse bark of the tree's trunk. 


	16. Four Damn Years

Fingon laughed, letting his body drape back against the tree, as Maedhros covered his lips with his, and they kissed languidly, gently. A breeze picked up, blowing Maedhros's red curls over his face, and Fingon raised his hands, brushing them away.  
  
"You should tie this back." Fingon murmured against Maedhros's lips, his fingers slipping through the long strands of Maedhros's hair. Maedhros's hair was not as soft as Fingon's, it had been roughened by years of exposure to the wind and elements on the daily, and dyed by the sun to a shimmering copper, a lighter hue than its original crimson.  
  
"I like it loose." Maedhros murmured back, his lips pressing in a soft benediction against the side of Fingon's jaw. A mischievous smile on his face, Fingon seized a handful of ruddy curls and _yanked.  
_

_"The hell, Finno!"_ Maedhros exclaimed. He was answered by a high giggle from Fingon, who let go of the hair he held, and slipped from between Maedhros and the tree, darting off among the other trees. 

Maedhros smirked, and ran after him, Fingon led him on a chase that winded through the trees, which ended with Maedhros tackling Fingon to the grassy floor, the two falling and rolling over and over in a tangle of limbs, before coming to rest tangled with each other.  
  
Maedhros was sprawled on his back, Fingon laying half atop him. Fingon's eyes peered down at Maedhros, his head crowned from behind with the light of the sun that shone through the leaves of the trees, and that trickled down to blend with the gold running through Fingon's hair. 

"I may be biased, but I've never seen anything as beautiful as you, Finno." Maedhros murmured.  
  
"I've told you, flattery does not work on me." Fingon said teasingly. 

"Bull." Maedhros retorted, lunging up to plant a kiss squarely on Fingon's lips. Fingon returned the kiss, and Maedhros's hands came up, bracketing Fingon's waist, pulling Fingon securely on top of him. 

Fingon's hands, however, went to the lapels of Maedhros's long coat, tugging on the leather til Maedhros broke off the kiss, and stared up questioningly at Fingon.

"Finno?"  
  
"Take it off." Fingon muttered, his fingers scratching little white marks into the leather. Maedhros laughed, but obliged, flipping over and shrugging off the coat in one fluid motion. Fingon, who was now lying on the grass, hummed in approval.  
  
  
"That's better, Maitimo." Fingon said. Maedhros smiled, leaning over to press a kiss to Fingon's cheek. Fingon grasped Maedhros's head between his hands, holding Maedhros's face gently as he returned Maedhros's kiss with ones along Maedhros's jaw and neck. Soft sounds of contentment escaped Maedhros's lips at Fingon's tender kisses, his own hands falling to Fingon's chest.  
  
Fingon worked his way down Maedhros's neck, and Maedhros followed the trail of buttons down on Fingon's shirt, undoing each one deftly as he came to it, pushing aside the starched fabric as the last button was undone. Fingon's skin was paler than Maedhros's, but Maedhros remembered a time in their childhood when Fingon's skin was a burnished bronze under the sun.

  
Maedhros's fingers mapped out patterns on Fingon's chest, and Fingon's breath came faster with each of Maedhros's touches. Reaching up, Fingon opened Maedhros's shirt and vest, much quicker than Maedhros had opened his.

Maedhros grinned down at Fingon, amused by the proceedings.  
  
"You're eager, Finno." he remarked, glancing down and watching Fingon's hands fly over his shirt's buttons.  
  
"It's been _four damn years,_ Maitimo." Fingon retorted, pulling apart Maedhros's shirt with a little more force than was healthy for the continued wholeness of the garment. His grin growing, Maedhros removed his shirt and vest with deliberately slow movements, and draped them carefully over the grass.

" _Maitimo_." Fingon hissed, sounding so much like an indignant cat that Maedhros chuckled.    
  
Fingon grabbed a tendril of dangling hair, using it to reel Maedhros down, til they were face to face. Touching his lips to Maedhros's, Fingon's other hand snaked down, curling around and fumbling with the buckle of Maedhros's belt.  
  
  
Maedhros retrieved Fingon's hand, lacing his fingers with his and moving his hand from his belt, pressing it down into the grass. He eased himself between Fingon's legs, his lips pressing against Fingon's with a newfound urgency that had been awakened by Fingon's attempts on his belt.  
  
  
  
Fingon's leg rose, hooking over Maedhros's waist, his hand leaving his coppery hair and roaming downward, across Maedhros's back, and then dipping down to explore the curve of his side.  
  
Such a simple touch to his bare skin made Maedhros shudder in pleasure, and suddenly he was acutely aware of the truth of Fingon's words. It had been _four damn years._  
  
He growled against Fingon's lips, his hand moving onto the leg that encircled his waist, squeezing the taut flesh of Fingon's thigh, then dragging his hand upward til it met Fingon's knee.  


Fingon freed his hand from Maedhros's fingers, bringing it to his back, and stroked down Maedhros's spine. A heat like fire spread through Maedhros, and looking down, he could see it reflected in Fingon's face.

He rocked between Fingon's legs in a steady rhythm, fanning the fire to new intensity, causing Fingon's breath to come in heaves. Then Fingon surged up, knocking Maedhros onto his side, sending them rolling a short ways through the grass, before they came to rest, Fingon sitting atop Maedhros, legs splayed to either side of his waist.  
  
  
Maedhros placed his hand on Fingon's chest, letting it flatten against the smooth skin, then moving it down, down, below Fingon's stomach. The groan that came from Fingon  as Maedhros's hand sank lower was utterly delightful, and Maedhros smirked, relishing how the sunlight was once more illuminating Fingon.

"You're _beautiful_ , Findekano." Maedhros said, his tone conveying a hint of awe.  
  
"Maitimo..." Fingon moaned softly, leaning over to give attention to the expanse of skin beneath him, as Maedhros's other hand found a place at his hip.  


What followed next between the two was a blend of headstrong passion and bliss, a reward obtained after _four damn years,_ as both had thought.  
  
Time passed in a lazy fashion, the sun was high in the sky before the two gave any thought to it.

 

"You should come with me to Washington." Fingon murmured, as they lay together on the grass.  
  
Fingon's head was resting on his chest, Maedhros took every liberty to play with Fingon's hair, which lay dark and thick over his freckled skin.   
  
"I can't, Finno. You know that." Maedhros said, letting his fingers drift over a plump, sable, braid. "My brothers - "

"Your brothers are grown. They've taken care of themselves for  years."  
  
"We need to all stay together."

"And I need you."  
  
"Finno - "  
  
"I _need_ you, Maitimo. You don't have to stay with me for too long, stay just a month, two months, if you can manage, but just come _be_ with me."   
  
"How would it look if you brought a bounty hunter to the capital?" Maedhros objected.   
  
"You're a senator."   
  
"I'm not a senator any longer. I left that behind when I let you run for the presidency. Now, I'm a bounty hunter."   
  


Fingon shifted, sitting up and looking over his shoulder at Maedhros. 

"What you are is stubborn. Just come be with me for a while, the politicians don't bite. " 

"Yes, they do." Maedhros remarked, tracing the ridge of Fingon's spine with his knuckle. Fingon shivered pleasantly, and Maedhros sat up, pressing a kiss to Fingon's shoulder.  
  
"I'll come with you." Maedhros agreed. Fingon offered him a brilliant smile in response, then looked up through the canopy of leaves at the sky. 

"We should be getting back, Saldhir is probably hanging up reward posters for us." Fingon quipped, locating and pulling on his clothes. Maedhros followed suit. 

"Saldhir can kiss my - "

  
" _Maitimo!_ "  
  
Chucking, Maedhros got to his feet, buttoning his vest as he whistled for the horses. Fingon came up from behind a few moments later, draping Maedhros's leather coat over his shoulders. 

Maedhros smiled, leaning his head back for a kiss that lasted til the horses were in view. 

They rode back to town side by side, and found Saldhir waiting for them on the outskirts of town. Maedhros gave Saldhir a jaunty grin, spurring his horse forward so he could reach him faster. 

Tight-lipped and harried, Sadhir looked past him at Fingon. 

  
"Mr. President, the senator just arrived in town, and the mayor wants your approval on the location of the rally." Saldhir called out, ignoring Maedhros. Fingon nodded, urging hs horse into a brisk trot down the road. When Fingon was a safe distance away, Saldhir looked at Maedhros. 

"What were you doing with him all morning, you scoundrel?" Saldhir snapped, his eyes narrowing. 

"The details are private, but I had a _very good morning_." Maedhros answered, then leaned conspiratorially towards Saldhir. "Perhaps you ought to try for the senator instead." Maedhros suggested, tossing back his windswept curls and riding onward after Fingon, leaving a fuming Saldhir to follow after them, muttering murderous implications under his breath at Maedhros.

 


	17. Gambling Man

"Behave." Fingon admonished, as he hurried into the town hall. Maedhros and Saldhir flashed each other heated glances, then dismounted their horses, hitching them and following Fingon inside.  
  
Fingon disappeared into one of the building's rooms, and Saldhir and Maedhros took seats at the table they had played chess on just a day prior.

"You made him late." Saldhir accused. Maedhros shrugged, and sprawled out in his chair. Saldhir however, did not adopt any such posture of relaxation, but remained tight lipped and tense.  
  
"What's eating at you?" Maedhros said, looking shrewdly at Saldhir. Saldhir regarded him with a look a condemned man might bestow on his executioner.  
  
"What's it to you?" Saldhir inquired testily. Maedhros's mouth quirked, and lifted his shoulders in a shrug of indifference. Saldhir sighed, the air seeping from his lips in a harsh _hiss_.

"It's the senator." Saldhir confided, leaning forward as if he were sharing a secret.

"What? You already propositioned him and he turned you down?" Maedhros said, reaching into a pocket of his leather coat and retrieving a worn, though well-conditioned stack of cards.

Saldhir's jaw clenched, and Maedhros swore he could hear his teeth grinding.

"The senator was a known supporter of Ulfang, but now, he's claiming to be on the President's side. It ain't right." Saldhir muttered. Maedhros rolled his eyes, tossing the deck of cards from one gloved hand to another.

"The senator is a politician. It wouldn't be the first time a senator got cozy with the opposing party to make the jack on some goal of his own. " Maedhros said. 

"B-But -" Saldhir sputtered.  
  
  
"Things can change this quickly." Maedhros interrupted smoothly, enclosing the cards in one hand and snapping the fingers of the other hand to emphasize his point. "The one thing you can be sure of, is that nothing ever happens for the good of the people when it comes to politicians."  
  
"The President is for the good of the people!" Saldhir objected hotly.  
  
"Yes, and he may be one of the first in history to be truly for them." Maedhros replied, dropping the stack of cards onto the highly polished surface of the table.

"We can agree on that." Saldhir said, reaching for the cards. Maedhros withdrew his hand, allowing Saldhir to take them and shuffle them.

"I can understand why you...feel the way you do for him." Maedhros admitted. Saldhir stared at him, his blue eyes wide in surprise. "That doesn't mean I like it." Maedhros amended. Saldhir scoffed and tossed the cards back across the table at him.

"Deal." Saldhir demanded. Maedhros's gloved fingers set to the task, and Saldhir watched him critically.

"Chips?" Saldhir questioned a moment later, and Maedhros fished a stack of round wooden circles from one of his pockets.    
  
"Pot?" Maedhros retorted as he placed the chips on the table. Saldhir reached down, locating something on his belt, then placed it on the table. Maedhros stared appraisingly at the gleam of mithril on the hilt of the knife, but simply nodded.

Saldhir raised his eyebrows in challenge, and Maedhros unwound the gold ribbon that encircled his wrist, and laid it gently on the table beside the knife. Saldhir's eyes widened again to an almost comical extent, and he eagerly reached for the cards.  
  
  
  


" _Gambling_ , _here_ , gentlemen?" Fingon said incredulously as he emerged sometime later, his eyes flinking over the table and its occupants. Maedhros shrugged, but Saldhir guiltily covered his cards with his hands. "Maitimo, I need to go back to the mayor's house. Saldhir, you can stay here and escort the senator to the hotel." Fingon continued, moving on to the doors. 

Maedhros stood up, picking up the gold ribbon and deftly re-wrapping it around his wrist. Saldhir's eyes narrowed in protest, and Maedhros threw him a grin as he followed after Fingon. 

"Keep those cards, and we'll settle things later." Maedhros said.

  
"You play poker better than anyone I know, Saldhir is never going to win that ribbon." Fingon said when he and Maedhros had gained the safety of the outdoors. 

"Exactly." Maedhros smirked, untying his horse and swinging himself up onto its back. 

"Maitimo, you need to leave him alone. He's a kid, and he's just devoted to me, you can't fault him for that." Fingon protested, mounting his own horse and setting off down the road in a quick trot. 

Maedhros spurred his horse to keep pace with Fingon's.

"A little _too_ devoted, if you take my meanin'." 

"It wouldn't be the first time I've had admirers." Fingon pointed out.   
  
  
"This one is too close to home."

  
Fingon sighed, ducking his head, and staring down at the mane of his horse. Maedhros swallowed tensely, immediately aware of Fingon's sudden change in attitude. 

"...Saldhir...doesn't seem to like the senator." Maedhros said quickly, hoping to change the subject. Fingon's head came back up, though he didn't look at Maedhros.  
  


"...Yes, he has doubts about him, because of how he supported Ulfang and all..."  

"I tried to tell him that's how politics work...the kid is naive, Finno." 

"He's not naive, he's just idealistic, and young...you know how much trouble that can be, Maitimo." 

"There's no problem with him being idealistic, he just needs to wise up to reality." Maedhros said.   
  
  
"You can't have one without losing the other, Maitimo!" Fingon snapped suddenly, his eyes flashing with anger. "When you realize what is actually going on, you lose your ideals! That's what happened to us...to your family! A bunch of hot-headed idiots who gave no thought to reality until it hit them slap in the face! Who are always afraid of losing what they own!" urging his horse into a brisk trot, Fingon sped off down the road, leaving Maedhros to follow him.

 

The ride to the mayor's house was executed in pensive silence, and when they arrived, Maedhros stayed only long enough to see that Fingon was safely inside, before dashing off in a flurry of hooves. 

His and Fingon's sojourn in the trees had taken more than half the day, and Fingon's visit to the town hall had been roughly another hour, and now, evening time was setting in, and Maedhros decided to take an early rest. 

He was surprised however, to be hailed as he entered the hotel.

"Hello." a voice called to Maedhros, its owner, a suited man, walking up to him, extending a hand. "I'm not sure you remember me, but four years ago..." Maedhros shook the man's hand.    
  
"I don't remember you, but you must be the senator Saldhir mentioned." Maedhros said cordially, making a quick deduction.

The man looked pleased.   
  
"Ah, yes. Mr. Brownstone, he does like to talk, doesn't he? But you, I remember you, you were the senator that dropped from the race on the last election. Caused quite a stir." the man said.

"It did indeed." Maedhros replied. "My brothers were the most unhappy about it, I can assure you." he said, falling into cadences of speech that had once been familiar to him.  
  
The man laughed.

"Naturally. They missed out on having a brother in a high government office. Now..."

"Now, I'm a bounty hunter." Maedhros said, flashing a suave smile to assuage any unease the mention of his line of work might bring.     
  
But the man only laughed again.   
  
"A bounty hunter? Perhaps you can bring some of our wayward politicians back to the law." the man quipped, causing Maedhros to chuckle. 

"Didn't you support Ulfang during the last election?" Maedhros said casually a moment later.

"I did, I did." the man said. "But now, the current President has pleasantly surprised me, here, have dinner with me, we can talk, one senator to another."

"I'm not a senator any longer." Maedhros said, but accepted the invitation. 

 

 

Dinner, and the talk had been over for nearly three solid hours, and the moon was already high in the sky when Maedhros crept up to the window of Fingon's room. He knocked lightly on the glass, and the window immediately opened, revealing Fingon.   
  
"I expected you here hours ago." Fingon informed him. 

"I was having dinner with the senator. If I'm going to Washington with you, I should get used to dealing with the politicians." Maedhros explained.  
  


"Who says you're going to Washington with me?" Fingon retorted, turning away from the window.   
  
"You seemed quite eager for me to go." Maedhros said, frowning as he spoke.  
  
"Well, maybe I'm not eager anymore." Fingon shot back, disappearing into the darkness of his room. Maedhros quickly clambered through the window, plunging into the darkened room after Fingon.  
  
" _Finno..._ " Maedhros pleaded.  
  
There was no answer.   
  
"Dammit, Findekano! I'm sorry, alright!" Maedhros said.   
  
A lamp cast a sudden glow over the room, and Fingon flicked away the stub of a match, and sat down on the bed.   
  
"Just come here." Fingon ordered wearily. Maedhros went to him, sitting beside him, and Fingon let his head rest on Maedhros's shoulder with a soft sigh.  
  
"I didn't mean it, I do want you to come to Washington...and about your family, what I said..."   
  
"Forget it, Finno, it's the truth." Maedhros muttered.   
  
"The rally is tomorrow." Fingon said, steering the conversation into safer channels.   
  
Maedhros nodded.  
  
"I'll leave Saldhir alone during the rally. It's your day tomorrow, Finno, you know I won't do anything to ruin it."  
  
"Good, I would hate for you two to make the headlines again." Fingon laughed, pleased with Maedhros's pledge to bestow no harm on Saldhir. 

"Tyelko kept the newspaper from that day, I might want to help him start a collection." Maedhros teased, light-hearted again at Fingon's laugh. Fingon pressed a soft kiss of forgivness to Maedhros's cheek, and Maedhros tilted his head, meeting Fingon's lips with his own.

"Everything is going to be just fine." Maedhros whispered against Fingon's lips, before kissing him deeply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for below_et_almost - 
> 
> The setting is something like that, the elves are supposed to be living out events of their previous lives in a setting that's being taken from current human events. So, Valinor is still around, and in human time it's 1880. So the Valar have moved all the problematic people into a Matrix-style projection of the 1880's to relive their lives.
> 
>  
> 
> If you've ever seen the TOS Star Trek episode Spectre of the Gun, it's kind of like that. That's the best explanation.  
> Or, you can read it in any way you like. I just wanted to do a Wild West AU and gave absolutely no though to the logistics.


	18. GUnfight At The Rally

They awoke the next morning, and parted outside the house, Fingon had an engagement at the town hall, and Maedhros had took it upon himself to walk Fingon to his stagecoach.

 

Casting a furtive glance in both directions to confirm no one else was present, Maedhros pressed a kiss to Fingon's lips. Fingon, who was standing with one foot on the stagecoach's steps, returned the kiss, his fingers curling gently around Maedhros's shoulders, a light pressure exerted by his fingers that sent a thrum down Maedhros's back and arms.   
  
The kiss ended, and Fingon smiled against Maedhros's lips, before pulling back and vanishing into the interior of the stagecoach. Grinning, Maedhros closed the door of the stagecoach, and tipped his hat to the window, then turned and went off, moments before the stagecoach's driver appeared to take his place on the stagecoach, maneuvering the 'coach and horses down the road.  
  
  
Maedhros looked upwards to the sky as he walked away to the sound of rattling wheels, it was an uncharacteristically cloudy day, he had woken in the morning expecting Fingon's face to be lit by the warm glow of the sun, but had been met by a pale overcast of blue shadow. His watch assured him that it was in fact, seven o' clock in the morning, but Maedhros could only see a dim indentation of the sun through the gray clouds obscuring the sky.      
  
Tucking his watch back into the pocket of his vest, Maedhros shoved an errant red curl back beneath the brim of his hat, and set off down the road, taking a leisurely stroll back into town, where he retrieved a fine suit from his room in the hotel, and his horse from the stables. He rode down to the town hall at ten o' clock, where Fingon's stagecoach was parked in front of, and was greeted by Saldhir's critically appraising blue eyes.  
  
"You clean up fine." Saldhir remarked, running a glance across Maedhros's suited form, but there was not a hint of compliment in his words.  
  
Maedhros offered Saldhir a wry grin, which was also devoid of any positive inflection. Maedhros knew he cut a dashing figure in a suit, and recognition of such was not uncommon. But this was Saldhir, and Maedhros wondered if he was simply jealous, or more nefariously, worried over the effect Maedhros might have have on Fingon. Both, most likely both, Maedhros decided.  
  
"When does the rally start?" Maedhros opted to say.

"Ten-thirty." Saldhir replied curtly, tossing back his fall of chestnut hair.  
  
"It's ten-fifteen now." Maedhros noted, and the doors to the town hall creaked open seconds later, admitting Fingon out onto the steps.

"Gentlemen, we are going to be _late_." Fingon informed them primly, darting down the steps and to the waiting stagecoach, but not before throwing Maedhros a look of pure admiration, his eyes specifically lingering on the curve of Maedhros's waist, which had been made prominent by the well-tailored suit.  
  
  
  
Maedhros directed an expression of triumph towards Saldhir when Fingon disappeared into the confines of the 'coach. With an aggravated gesture, Saldhir spurred his horse onwards after the departing 'coach, and Maedhros followed, laughing softly to himself.

The chosen area for the rally was the wide expanse of land in front of the newly built courthouse, that was situated on the outskirts of the town. A stage had been constructed flush with the courthouse's steps, and the stagecoach approached it from the opposite direction from where it faced, the large crowd gathered at the front of the stage would not permit the stage to be approached from the front. 

Maedhros's eyes swept over the assembled crowd, searching for any faces that might bode trouble. He saw none, his brothers stood in a loose group near the stage, appearing to be nothing more than casual onlookers, though Maedhros knew better. Each was armed, and each was on a sharp lookout. As an afterthought, Maedhros glanced to the far left, at the forest that lay a nearly a mile away, the same forest he and Fingon had frolicked in just the day before.   
  
Celegorm had grumbled against Maedhros's injunction to lend extra, if unknown security at the rally, but had conceded to Maedhros's request. Maedhros, after all, could truthfully be accused of being paranoid, and quickest way to assuage such was to bend to whatever whim Maedhros fancied.  
  
Not that Maedhros believed that there would be any trouble, he had said as much, but still, paranoia was a quite a motivator for assumptions.   
  
Maedhros drew his horse to a halt and dismounted, hitching his horse to a post alongside the wall of the courthouse, and walking up to the back of the stage. Saldhir copied his movements, casting dubious glances at the sky as he hitched his horse alongside Maedhros's, then followed after him.  
  
  
"Do you suppose it'll rain?" Saldhir asked, trotting quickly to keep up with Maedhros's long strides. Maedhros shrugged one shoulder.

"It might."  

"It'd be just awful if it did." Saldhir muttered. "And everyone was saying the weather would be excellent today..."  
  
Maedhros let Saldhir's voice trail off into the realm of indifference as he climbed the steps to the stage, steadfastly beating down the sparks of rage Saldhir's whining induced. Saldhir however, delighted in rebelling against  Maedhros's limitations, and kept up a fussy tirade.   
  
  
"...And if it does rain, we haven't brought any umbrellas, so we'll have to borrow a parasol from one of the ladies in the crowd for the President, but imagine how embarrassing that will be if..." Saldhir's words were cut short by a sudden roll of thunder. Jumping as the crackling sound hit his ears, Saldhir bestowed a irritated glance on Maedhros, as if the thunderclap had been of Maedhros's design.   
  
Maedhros ignored Saldhir's look, and frowned at the darkening sky with furrowed brows, as if he was trying to read something from its grey layers. Then he shrugged, finally meeting Saldhir's eyes.  
  
"It'll rain for sure." Maedhros said. "But if we're lucky, the rain will hold off until after the rally." Saldhir's mouth twisted in annoyance, and Maedhros's curved in an answering grin. "If it does rain early, Finno will get wet, and then I have the perfect excuse to take off his clothes, _again_." Maedhros confided, stepping to the back of the stage.  
  
  
Saldhir's retort was lost in another clap of thunder, much to Maedhros's pleasure.  
  
A small group of people led by the mayor filed up onto the stage, and Maedhros saw the senator in the the group. Nodding respectively to both the mayor and the senator as they took up places beside him, Maedhros watched Fingon's 'coach moor next to the stage.  
  
The senator's voice broke him away from his contemplation.  
  
"Gloomy day, don't you agree?"  Maedhros nodded. He was not overly concerned with the weather, though it might cause some preoccupation within the audience, it was less bothersome to Maedhros. He had a private reserve of sunshine in his cousin; all Fingon had to do was smile, and it would generate enough light for him. "It will make this day more memorable, for sure." the senator continued, an odd quirk to his lips. Maedhros's eyes narrowed slightly, but he was distracted as quick, measured steps tapped against the wooden stairs of the stage.

FIngon mounted the stage, lifting his hand in greeting as he rose into the view of the audience. The audience cheered, and Fingon flashed a brilliant smile as he made his way to the podium. 

   
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen!" Fingon called out as he took his place at the podium. "I am honored to be with you on such a - " here a look was thrown up at the grey sky, "- fine day!"  
  
Laughter rippled through the crowd, and on the sidelines, Maedhros allowed himself a chuckle of his own. Fingon, with his perpetually cheery demeanor, could bring charm to even the most drab of situations.  
  
Fingon launched into his speech, and Maedhros listened with rapt attention. While Fingon was not as skilled an orator as some, he still infused his words with vigor and promise. 

Over the ever increasing volume of the crowd's cheers, Maedhros heard another thunderclap break, and out of the corner of his eye, he detected a flutter of movement, Saldhir was tapping his foot in a restless manner, staring warily up into the sky. Shrugging, Maedhros turned his attention back to Fingon.

"...And so, a new frontier of wealth and opportunity will be available for all, a future in which our families..." Fingon was saying. The senator cleared his throat pointedly in Maedhros direction, preventing Fingon's next words from being heard, and though slightly irritated, Maedhros looked at him, raising his brows in polite interest.  
  
"The president can talk quite a show." the senator remarked, pulling his watch from his waistcoat as he spoke.  
  
  
"He means every word of it, it isn't for show." Maedhros replied, with an undercurrent of defensiveness. The senator's eyes flicked over the face of his watch, then rose to meet Maedhros's.  
  
"I'm sure he does, he's all for the betterments." the senator agreed, the same odd quirk reappearing on the corner of his lips. Deftly tucking the watch back into a pocket his waistcoat, the senator moved past Maedhros. "Excuse me, gentlemen, nature's call." the senator said, hurrying down the stage's steps, and disappearing behind it.  
  
  
  
Another roll of thunder burst in the sky moments later, its sound obscuring the senator's fading footsteps, the crowd's noise, and Fingon's voice for a short time, before fading away. But the sound of the thunder remained in Maedhros's ears, and his brows furrowing in confusion, Maedhros reached over to Saldhir who was nearest to him, and grabbed his upper arm, squeezing to draw his attention.

Saldhir's eyes immediately met his, and Maedhros noted likewise confusion in them.  
  
"Do you hear that?" Maedhros questioned in a whisper. Saldhir nodded mutely, casting a precursory glance at the mayor and other guards, who appeared to be unbothered, and with good reason, human ears could not detect what elvish ones did, and Fingon was too involved in his speech to hear much else besides his own words.  
  
"It sounds like thunder, but it's not." Maedhros continued. Saldhir nodded again, his eyes widening seconds later in recognition.  
  
"Horses! Behind us!" Saldhir said, and Maedhros threw a swift glance over his shoulder. In the foreground, Maedhros could see the dark, distinct figures of men on horses riding out from the forest. As he watched, they grouped together on the open plain, then rapidly advanced on the courthouse.   

Maedhros quickly looked back at Saldhir.  
  
"Are they - " Maedhros began, intending to ask Saldhir if he knew horsemen and their intentions. But Saldhir shook his head, knowing what Maedhros was asking before the question was even posed. Maedhros shot another look at the riders, they had come closer in the few seconds that Maedhros had taken to talk to Saldhir, and Maedhros could now clearly make out some of their faces and clothes, and instantly, recognized them.  
  
" _Shit!_ " Maedhros swore, releasing Saldhir's arm. "Get the mayor out of here!" Maedhros exclaimed, launching himself towards Fingon, he grabbed Fingon around the waist, pulling him against his side protectively, and leaned over the podium, shouting down to the confused crowd below. "You all get on out of here, there's trouble! Get back to your homes!"  
  
The crowd began to scatter, but Maedhros did not wait to see if they would fully follow his order. Instead he went to the stairs, and went down them two by two, nearly carrying Fingon with him. Saldhir followed, flanked by the other guards, and ushering along the mayor.  
  
"Maitimo, what the hell is going on?!" Fingon said furiously.  
  
"There's practically a cavalry riding down on us, Finno." Maedhros replied, jerking his head in the direction of the oncoming horsemen, the sound of galloping hooves growing in his ears. "I have to get you out of here."

Fingon's eyes went to the riders, his face paling ever so slightly.  
  
"What are Morgoth's men doing here?" Fingon questioned, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. Maedhros swallowed, his face drawing tight.

"I don't know, Finno. I don't know." Maedhros whispered back, his grip around Fingon's waist strengthening, He jumped off the last step, and hurried away, bypassing the stagecoach as he went, heading to where the horses were tethered.

"The 'coach -" Fingon began, but Maedhros shook his head.  
  
"The stagecoach is too slow, you'll have to take my horse." Maedhros said.  
  
"I am not leaving without you." Fingon declared as they came to the horses.  
  
"Don't be stubborn, Finno. Morgoth's men are here for you." Maedhros said shortly, dispelling his earlier claim of ignorance regarding the horsemen's motives, reaching over with one hand and undoing his horse's tether, then freeing Saldhir's horse as well with swift movements. "Me and my brothers will hold them off here long enough for you to get away, then we'll get on back to you."   
  
"They may not even be here for me!" Fingon protested. "They might be here for you, or your brothers, or even just to raid the town!"  
  
"I'm not letting you get hurt on any account!" Maedhros growled back, seizing Fingon around the waist with both hands and lifting him up onto his horse's back in one swing. Fingon halfheartedly kicked at him, but grabbed the reins all the same. Firmly grasping Fingon's knee, Maedhros looked at Saldhir and his group. "Get the mayor into the nearest building, lock the doors, and stay in there." Maedhros said.   
  
Saldhir's eyes flashed in defiance, his gaze going to Fingon. Maedhros gritted his teeth.   
  
"I won't let anything happen to him." Maedhros snapped. "Now go on, get out of here!" Saldhir's lip curled in distaste, but the next moment he had grabbed the mayor's arm and was hurrying away. Not sparing him a second thought, Maedhros looked back to Fingon.

"Maitimo..." Fingon began.

"Did you bring a gun?" Maedhros interrupted. 

"Maitimo, why would I bring a gun to a rally?" Fingon said, his tone carrying a hint of innocence.  
  
Maedhros stared at him blankly. Fingon huffed in exasperation and peeled back the corner of his jacket, exposing the a small revolver tucked inconspicuously into his waistcoat.  
  
"You'll need another." was Maedhros's reply, and he pulled a gold-chased revolver from one of the saddle bags with his free hand, and held it out to Fingon. Fingon took it immediately, his eyes locking on Maedhros's.   
  
"Ride hard, don't look back. Get as far away from here as you can, then hide." Maedhros ordered.

"They're on horses, they'll follow me, I'll be safer here with you then riding off alone." Fingon objected.  
  
"There's fifty, or more than that, I can't protect you from so many!" Maedhros hissed, hyper-aware of how close the thundering of the hooves now were. "Now, go!" without waiting for another objection, Maedhros slapped his horse's flank, sending it galloping off. Then he turned and ran, past the stage and to its front.  
  
The crowd had dispersed, though a few people remained behind, unwilling or too confused to leave. Maedhros had no time to get them to safety, when the fighting began, he reckoned it would be enough to scare them off.    
  
His brothers were in a loose knot, their weapons all drawn, staring at the advancing horde, though all eyes went to Maedhros when he ran up.  
  
"Maitimo!" Maglor shouted over the din of the hooves.

"They're Morgoth's men!" Maedhros shouted to him, whirling around and yanking his gun from his holster as the first of the black-clothed horsemen rode down on them. Seven guns spat fire, and seven of the foremost men fell from their saddles, their horses rearing up and then bolting away.  
  
"Pick off as many as you can, and then get out of here!" Maedhros shouted back at his brothers, aiming, and then firing, killing the eighth man. More of the horsemen dropped from their saddles at his order, and Maedhros risked a glance in Fingon's direction. Fingon was riding away, but not fast enough.   
  
Swearing under his breath, Maedhros aimed again, his finger hovering over his gun's trigger. The trigger was never depressed, Maedhros leapt to the side, throwing himself to the ground as another rider galloped straight into his path. Having avoided being trampled by only a narrow fraction, Maedhros glared up from the dusty floor at the horseman, who had come to halt in front of him.

A pair of burning eyes met his, eyes that were set in a head that was shaved, and extended from shoulders covering black leather.

 _Gothmog._ The name echoed in Maedhros's head, then came to his mouth.  
  
"Gothmog!" Maedhros shouted, the word both a challenge to the Balrog, and a warning to his brothers. Gothmog merely answered him with a feral grin, and in a swift movement brought the rifle he was holding to his shoulder, aiming at something in the distance. Maedhros knew with sickening lurch, exactly what that something was.

 _Fingon_.

Maedhros threw himself to his feet, pulling the trigger of his gun, but Gothmog's shot broke the air first, and in the distance Maedhros could see his horse, with Fingon still on it, collapse. 

Immediately, Maedhros ran, his only thought to reach Fingon, but Gothmog spurred his horse and rode past him, deliberately veering too close, knocking Maedhros facedown onto the floor again. Summoned by a loud command, two other horsemen rode up, flanking Gothmog, all three riding towards Fingon.  
  
Rolling over, Maedhros came up on his knees, firing at them in rapid succession, hitting one horse three times. The horse stumbled and fell, pinning its rider beneath its weight, though Gothmog and his remaining companion were not deterred.   
  
Shifting to his feet, Maedhros reloaded his gun, then resumed his sprint, his eyes taking in everything happening ahead of him.  
  
Fingon stood, easing himself from under Maedhros's groaning horse. The horse was wounded, though the wound did not appear to be fatal, much to Fingon's relief. But he hadn't much time to worry over the horse. Two riders were approaching him, and behind them, Fingon could see Maedhros running.    
  
Fingon pulled his revolver from his waistcoat, and stooped down, retrieving the revolver Maedhros had given him from where it had fallen from his hand. Fingon was adept with weapons, he held held his own in many fights outside the political arena.  
  
He held the guns out, fingers curled around the triggers. His first shots embedded two bullets into both oncoming horses. Gothmog and his companion crashed to the ground in a whirl of dust, and black leather and clinking reins, but Gothmog regained his feet almost instantly, yanking his rifle from beneath the wreckage of his horse, and sending an enraged shot in Fingon's direction.   
  
Nimbly, Fingon ducked, firing his revolvers simultaneously as Gothmog's bullet whizzed harmlessly over him, causing Gothmog to jump back to preserve his feet. Fingon's lips turned up in a smirk, and Gothmog charged at him, firing once again, only to be warded off by two bullets that raced past either side of his head.      
   
  
They circled each other, each looking for an opening. Gothmog was the first to attempt an attack, firing two times, at different positions. Fingon evaded both, and darted the the side and around, placing himself nearly behind Gothmog, and raised his guns, for a clear shot at the side of Gothmog's head.

The crack of a whip broke the air, and Fingon could not contain a gasp as a long leather coil wrapped around his waist and chest, encasing his torso in a spiral of pain, and yanking him backwards. Fingon stumbled, the stance of his guns faltering, and Gothmog spun around and drew his rifle to his shoulder, aiming the barrel directly at the center of Fingon's head, his finger squeezing the trigger.

Maedhros heard the shot, just as he had heard every shot before it. He had seen it all as well, had seen Fingon shoot down the horses, had seen Fingon and Gothmog duel, and had seen Gothmog's companion rise from the floor and come behind Fingon with a long whip.  
  
He raised his gun, firing, hitting Gothmog square in the shoulder. The Balrog howled with pain, but oddly, did not turn to attack. He ran instead, with his lackey at his heels.  
  
Fingon, no longer held by the whip around his waist, fell.  
  
Maedhros dashed the rest of the way to him, catching him before he could fall into the dust. Fingon crumpled limply into Maedhros's arms, and Maedhros sank to his knees, cradling him.  
  
  
Blood trickled down Fingon's face, and the strands of ebony hair that had come loose from his braids stuck to it. With shaking hands, Maedhros gently brushed the blood soaked hair out of Fingon's face, and numbly stared down at what he had revealed.  
  
A round wound, in the exact center of Fingon's forehead. Blood still leaked from it, running in thin rivulets across Fingon's face. Maedhros's hand clenched, his fingers still tangled in Fingon's bloodied hair.

"...F...Findekano..."    
  
  
  


  
  
  
  



	19. In The Rain

With a final deafening thunderclap, it began to rain, the droplets falling heavy and fast. Maedhros was oblivious to the rain, only noticing it when it began to to fall on Fingon's face, diluting and rinsing away the streaks of blood.  
  
  
With the back of his trembling hand, Maedhros wiped the water from Fingon's face. Fingon did not like rain, he would tolerate a spring shower, but heavy rain he practically loathed. Based on this knowledge, Maedhros had dim intentions of carrying Fingon's body- no, _Fingon_ , to somewhere sheltered and dry, but he simply couldn't. His body felt like stone, it would be too much to even try to move.   
   
  
Sometime later, Maedhros became aware of worried voices shouting his name, then shouting different things, in more horrified tones.

 

 _"Maitimo, Maitimo!...Oh, shit...Findekano...Maitimo, what happened?...Damn it to hell, it's Findekano...Who did it?...Maitimo?...The President is dead..."  
  
  
_  
Maedhros did not reply to any of the questions, and the voices faded into a buzz, his vision blurring along with it. His sight was obscured by the rainwater that was dripping from his soaked lashes and down into his eyes, or so Maedhros told himself, but he knew better. After all, rainwater did not taste salty.  
  
Maedhros could make out a face through the grey haze of his vision, Maglor's face. Maglor was crouched in front of Maedhros, looking at his eldest brother with a steady, if pained expression.  
  
  
"Here, Maitimo, let me take him." Maglor said, extending his hands to Maedhros, clearly reaching for Fingon.  
  
  
Maedhros arms curled around Fingon tighter, and he shook his head wordlessly. Maglor did not insist, and rose to his feet instead.  
  
"Bring the stagecoach." Maglor ordered someone near him, but Maedhros hardly heard him.  
  
When the stagecoach pulled up minutes later, the rattle of its wheels was an unspoken signal to Maedhros, and slowly, he rose to his feet. The crushing weight that had pervaded his limbs had drawn back, instead crowding in his chest, forming a vice around his heart. And it _hurt._

Blinking away some of the water in his eyes, Maedhros approached the stagecoach and entered it, seating himself on one of the plush benches inside, Maglor followed, shutting the door behind himself and knocking on the roof to indicate that the stagecoach should move.  
  
The stagecoach rocked as it set off, and Maedhros held Fingon in a way that would protect him from being jostled. Fingon was heavy and cold against him, in a way that was unfamiliar. Fingon was usually warm and light...and alive. Maedhros's eyes focused on the dark wound that marred Fingon's forehead, and remained there.   
  
Maglor stared at his brother from across the interior of the 'coach, his eyes probing.  
  
Maedhros felt Maglor's gaze, but didn't respond to it, he didn't want any platitudes, even from his brother. Maedhros didn't want comfort either, or even recognition of his loss, he didn't deserve it. After all, Maedhros thought bitterly, his eyes filling with new tears as they looked down at Fingon's pale, pale face, he was the one responsible for this... _murder_.   
  
When Maglor finally spoke, his tone was carefully restrained, almost businesslike, calculated not to draw conflict. And in some way, Maedhros both appreciated that, and despised it.

"We're going to the undertaker, Maitimo. We'll need to bury Findekano as soon as possible, but the most important thing now is to notify Washington, they'll need to swear the vice president into office as soon as possible."   
  
Maedhros simply nodded in reply, a ingrained courtesy that he really didn't mean, or notice that he had done.  
  
_Washington_...Fingon had asked him to come to Washington, had practically begged.  
  
" _Just come be with me.._."

" _Just come be with me..."_ Fingon had said.  
  
And Maedhros had agreed to go, even though he had been reluctant initially, but that was mostly out of principle. Maedhros had envisioned days, weeks, months at Washington with Fingon, kissing Fingon in his office, poking fun at the politicians with him, and trying the best he could to ease the weight of the presidency.  
  
Hell, Maedhros had considered laying down his gun and becoming a senator again, if only to work publicly with Fingon.  
  
Now, that was all gone, shattered by the bullet that embedded in Fingon's skull. Maedhros choked on the sob that was welling in his throat, earning a concerned look from Maglor.  
  
"Maitimo..." Maglor began, but Maedhros shook his head, wordlessly cutting off any ensuing statement, and silence reigned for the remainder of the ride.

Minutes later, the carriage halted with a creak, and Maglor held out his hands again.  
  
" _Maitimo_." Maglor said again, but his words were backed with purpose this time. Maedhros's body tensed, going as rigid as a statue, and the sob rose in renewed force, pushing its way out of his throat. Maedhros's shoulders shook, and his arms closed around Fingon's form, holding him tightly to his chest.  
  
Maedhros let his head drop onto Fingon's shoulder, muffling his sobs in the damp cloth of Fingon's suit. Under the scent of damp linen was the smell of of roses and gold, a smell that was uniquely Fingon's.   
  
  
Maedhros inhaled the scent, sobbing even harder as it filled his nose.

 _Findekano!_ he wanted to scream. _Findekano, wake up!_ _You'll be alright!_ But it would be a lie. Fingon wasn't alright, and _nothing_ would never be alright again. Drawing a shuddering breath, Maedhros raised his head from the hollow of Fingon's shoulder.   
  
Maedhros raised his hand, brushing it gently over Fingon's eyes, shutting them. His lips followed his hand, and he pressed a kiss to Fingon's forehead, over the ugly mark. Maedhros tasted blood and metal, rainwater, and lastly, salt from his tears.  
  
_Death. Death must taste like that,_ Maedhros thought.

Maglor's hands were there, waiting, and Maedhros relinquished his grip on Fingon, watching without expression as Fingon was taken from his arms. The moment Fingon's weight was lifted, Maedhros opened the door of the carriage and bolted out, running down the road, paying no attention to Maglor's calls.

It was still raining steadily, and the street had turned into a river of sluggish mud, but that did not hinder Maedhros in the least. The tracks of the stagecoach were still etched into the soft ground, and Maedhros followed them, arriving from where he had came only minutes later.  
  
His brothers were all standing in a group, eerily reminiscent of how they had stood when Morogoth's men had first rode in. Maedhros dashed into the middle of his siblings, drawing their attention immediately.   
  
" _Where are they?!_ " Maedhros demanded, his eyes looking past his brothers, scanning the horizon, searching for black clothed horsemen.  
  
  
"They're gone." Celegorm said matter-of-factly, tucking his pistol into a holster at his side, avoiding Maedhros's eyes with uncharacteristic delicacy. "They all just turned and rode back off suddenly. We would have followed them, but our horses weren't here, and they...Maitimo?" Celegorm's words petered out as he finally looked at Maedhros

Maedhros was staring off into the horizon at no particular point, his eyes glazed and unfocused. Tears streamed down his face, getting lost in the rain that was pouring around and on him.  
  


"Maitimo." Celegorm said again, but was cut off by a shout from behind. Everyone but Maedhros turned at the same time, looking at Saldhir, who was approaching them at a run, which slowed to a walk as he reached them.   
  
Spotting Maedhros among the group, Saldhir addressed his next words to him.   
  
"The mayor is safe, he's at town hall, no one has seen the senator yet, but I have people looking." Saldhir said hastily, walking past everyone else and towards Maedhros. "Where is the President?" 

Silence fell after the words had left Saldhir's mouth, and Saldhir looked around confusedly. 

"Is he hurt?" Saldhir demanded, addressing his words to the back of Maedhros's head. Maedhros swiveled around slowly, his reddened eyes meeting Saldhir's. 

"No, he's not hurt." Maedhros said hollowly. "He's dead, Saldhir."  
  
Saldhir's lips turned up in a wavering smile, an odd, breathy, laugh leaving his lips.  
  
"That's not as funny as you think it is." Saldhir said calmly, although his eyes narrowed.   
  
"I wasn't trying to be funny." Maedhros murmured.   
  
Saldhir began to speak, but stopped when a lone tear trickled from Maedhros's eye, and slid down, through the droplets of rainwater scattered on Maedhros's face. 

"I was too late, and he was shot." Maedhros said tonelessly. "My brother just took him...his body to the undertaker's." Maedhros added, in the same flat, dull voice his previous words had been spoken in.  
  
Saldhir took a step back, horror contorting his features.   
  
"No." Saldhir gasped out. "No, no _NO!_ " he stumbled back even more, grabbing at his hair. "He can't...he can't be _dead_! H...He was...you were..." Saldhir gasped again, his face freezing, his fingers locking in his hair.

Maedhros stared at him impassively, and Saldhir's face broke into a snarl. 

" _You son-of-a-bitch!_ " Saldhir screamed, his chest heaving. "You told me you would protect him!"   
  
 Maedhros's face spasmed, shattering its expressionless facade, but he didn't say anything.   
  
"You _liar!_ " Saldhir continued to shout, stamping his foot against the muddy ground, tears forming in his eyes. "You damned _liar!_ _I trusted you! Do you know what you did?!_ "    
  
Maedhros only nodded, his face blank again, but his his response only served to further enrage Saldhir.  
  
  
"You made me leave him! I could have protected him, if I had been there, he wouldn't of died! _But you made me leave!"_  
  
"If you had stayed, you would have got to see him die." Maedhros said.   
  
"No! I would have kept him safe!" Saldhir insisted, and in swift a movement, yanked his gun from his holster, pointing it level with Maedhros. Just as quickly, Celegorm and Amrod closed in on Saldhir, pinioning him between them.   
  
Maedhros shook his head, an almost amused expression crossing his face. 

"Let him go, let him shoot me." Maedhros said quietly. "He'll be doing me a favor."   
  
Shocked, Amrod looked at Celegorm. Celegorm shook his head tightly, and grabbed Saldhir's wrist, squeezing until his gun dropped into the mud. Saldhir made no move to retrieve it, instead breaking into sobs and slumping against Amrod, his chestnut hair falling in wet trails over his face.    
  
"...I hate you!" Saldhir cried weakly, his blue eyes glaring through his tears at Maedhros.   
  
A bitter, thin smile tugged at the corners of Maedhros's lips, but his eyes were trained on the gun that lay in the mud.  
  
"I hate me too, I hate me too." Maedhros said softly, and a high, hysterical laugh bubbled from his throat. "You and me kid, you and me are the only ones in this damned place who know what the other is feeling. Now what do you think of that?" 

Saldhir didn't respond, but only sobbed harder.  Maedhros walked forward, then stooped down and picked up Saldhir's gun, wiping the mud from it, and stowing it in his belt.   
  
"When you want this back, come find me." Maedhros instructed in an empty tone, then turned and walked off, past his brothers, disappearing down the road into the grey haze of the rain.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is the key to my heart.


End file.
